HP02-MurderontheLinks

AgathaChristie

Chapter1

AFELLOW-TRAVELLER

I believe that a well-known anecdote exists to the effect that a young writer, determined to make the
commencement of his story forcible and original enough to catch and rivet the attention of the most
blaséofeditors,pennedthefollowingsentence:

'"Hell!"saidtheDuchess.'

Strangelyenough,thistaleofmineopensinmuchthesamefashion.Onlytheladywhogaveutterance
totheexclamationwasnotaduchess.

It was a day in early June. I had been transacting some business in Paris and was returning by the
morning service to London, where I was still sharing rooms with my old friend, the Belgian ex-
detective,HerculePoirot.

TheCalaisexpresswassingularlyempty-infact,myowncompartmentheldonlyoneothertraveller.I
had made a somewhat hurried departure from the hotel and was busy assuring myself that I had duly
collectedallmytraps,whenthetrainstarted.UptillthenIhadhardlynoticedmycompanion,butIwas
nowviolentlyrecalledtothefactofherexistence.Jumpingupfromherseat,sheletdownthewindow
andstuckherheadout,withdrawingitamomentlaterwiththebriefandforcibleejaculation'Hell!'

NowIamold-fashioned.Awoman,Iconsider,shouldbewomanly.Ihavenopatiencewiththemodern
neurotic girl who jazzes from morning till night, smokes like a chimney, and uses language which
wouldmakeaBillingsgatefishwomanblush!

Ilookedup,frowningslightly,intoapretty,impudentface,surmountedbyarakishlittleredhat.Athick
cluster of black curls hid each ear. I judged that she was little more than seventeen, but her face was
coveredwithpowder,andherlipswerequiteimpossiblyscarlet.

Nothingabashed,shereturnedmyglance,andexecutedanexpressivegrimace.

'Dearme,we'veshockedthekindgentleman!'sheobservedtoanimaginaryaudience.'Iapologizefor
mylanguage!Mostunladylike,andallthat,but,oh,Lord,there'sreasonenoughforit!Doyouknow
I'velostmyonlysister?'

'Really?'Isaidpolitely.'Howunfortunate.'

'Hedisapproves.'remarkedthelady.'Hedisapprovesutterly-ofme,andmysister-whichlastisunfair,
becausehehasn'tseenher!'

Iopenedmymouth,butsheforestalledme.

'Saynomore!Nobodylovesme!Ishallgointothegardenandeatworms!Boohoo.Iamcrushed!'

She buried herself behind a large comic French paper. In a minute or two, I saw her eyes stealthily
peepingatmeoverthetop.InspiteofmyselfIcouldnothelpsmiling,andinaminuteshehadtossed
thepaperaside,andhadburstintoamerrypealoflaughter.

'Iknewyouweren'tsuchamuttasyoulooked,'shecried.

HerlaughterwassoinfectiousthatIcouldnothelpjoiningin,thoughIhardlycaredfortheword'mutt'.

'There!Nowwe'refriends!'declaredtheminx.'Sayyou'resorryaboutmysister-'

'Iamdesolated!'

'That'sagoodboy!'

'Let me finish. I was going to add that, although I am desolated, I can manage to put up with her
absenceverywell.'Imadealittlebow.

Butthismostunaccountableofdamselsfrownedandshookherhead.

'Cutitout.Ipreferthe"dignifieddisapproval"stunt.Oh,yourface!"Notoneofus",itsaid.Andyou

were right there - though, mind you, it's pretty hard to tell nowadays. It's not everyone who can
distinguishbetweena'demi'andaduchess.Therenow,IbelieveI'veshockedyouagain!You'vebeen
dugoutofthebackwoods,youhave.NotthatImindthat.Wecoulddowithafewmoreofyoursort.I
justhateafellowwhogetsfresh.Itmakesmemad.'

Sheshookherheadvigorously.

'Whatareyoulikewhenyou'remad?'Iinquiredwithasmile.

'Aregularlittledevil!Don'tcarewhatIsay,orwhatIdo,either!Inearlydidachapinonce.Yes,really.
He'dhavedeservedit,too.'

'Well,'Ibegged,'don'tgetmadwithme.'

'Ishan't.Ilikeyou-didthefirstmomentIseteyesonyou.ButyoulookedsodisapprovingthatInever
thoughtweshouldmakefriends.'

'Well,wehave.Tellmesomethingaboutyourself.'

'I'manactress.No-notthekindyou'rethinkingof.I'vebeenontheboardssinceIwasakidofsix-
tumbling.'

'Ibegyourpardon,'Isaid,puzzled.

'Haven'tyoueverseenchildacrobats?'

'Oh,Iunderstand!'

'I'mAmericanborn,butI'vespentmostofmylifeinEngland.We'vegotanewshownow-'

'We?'

'MysisterandI.Sortofsonganddance,andabitofpatter,andadashoftheoldbusinessthrownin.It's
quiteanewidea,andithitsthemeverytime.There'sgoingtobemoneyinit...'

My new acquaintance leaned forward, and discoursed volubly, a great many of her terms being quite
unintelligible to me. Yet I found myself evincing an increasing interest in her. She seemed such a
curious mixture of child and woman. Though perfectly wordly-wise, and able, as she expressed it, to
takecareofherself,therewasyetsomethingcuriouslyingenuousinhersingle-mindedattitudetowards
life,andherwhole-hearteddeterminationto'makegood'.

WepassedthroughAmiens.Thenameawakenedmanymemories.Mycompanionseemedtohavean
intuitiveknowledgeofwhatwasinmymind.

'ThinkingoftheWar?'

Inodded.

'Youwerethroughit,Isuppose?'

'Prettywell.Iwaswoundedonce,andafterthattheyinvalidedmeoutaltogether.I'masortofprivate
secretarynowtoanMP.'

'My!That'sbrainy!'

'No,itisn't.There'sreallyawfullylittletodo.Usuallyacoupleofhourseverydayseesmethrough.It's
dullworktoo.Infact,Idon'tknowwhatIshoulddoifIhadn'tgotsomethingtofallbackupon.'

'Don'tsayyoucollectbugs!'

'No.Ishareroomswithaveryinterestingman.He'saBelgian-anex-detective.He'ssetupasaprivate
detectiveinLondon,andhe'sdoingextraordinarilywell.He'sreallyaverymarvellouslittleman.Time
andagainhehasprovedtoberightwheretheofficialpolicehavefailed.'

Mycompanionlistenedwithwideningeyes.

'Isn'tthatinteresting,now?Ijustadorecrime.Igotoallthemysteriesonthemovies.Andwhenthere's
amurderonIjustdevourthepapers.'

'DoyouremembertheStylesCase?'Iasked.

'Letmesee,wasthattheoldladywhowaspoisoned?SomewheredowninEssex?'

Inodded.

'ThatwasPoirot'sfirstbigcase.Undoubtedly,butforhimthemurdererwouldhaveescapedscot-free.It
wasamostwonderfulbitofdetectivework.'

Warmingtomysubject,Iranovertheheadsoftheaffair,workinguptothetriumphantandunexpected
denouement.

Thegirllistenedspellbound.Infact,weweresoabsorbedthatthetraindrewintoCalaisstationbefore
werealizedit.

Isecuredacoupleofporters,andwealightedontheplatform.

Mycompanionheldoutherhand.

'Goodbye,andI'llmindmylanguagebetterinfuture.'

'Oh,butsurelyyou'llletmelookafteryouontheboat?'

'Mayn't be on the boat. I've got to see whether that sister of mine got aboard after all anywhere. But
thanks,allthesame.'

'Oh,butwe'regoingtomeetagain,surely?Aren'tyouevengoingtotellmeyourname.'Icriedasshe
turnedaway.

Shelookedoverhershoulder.

'Cinderella,'shesaid,andlaughed.

ButlittledidIthinkwhenandhowIshouldseeCinderellaagain!

Chapter2

ANAPPEALFORHELP

It was five minutes past nine when I entered our joint sitting-room for breakfast on the following
morning.MyfriendPoirot,exacttotheminuteasusual,wasjusttappingtheshellofhissecondegg.

HebeameduponmeasIentered.

'Youhavesleptwell,yes?Youhaverecoveredfromthecrossingsoterrible?Itisamarvel,almostyou
areexactthismorning.Pardon,butyourtieisnotsymmetrical.PermitthatIrearrangehim.'

Elsewhere,IhavedescribedHerculePoirot.Anextraordinarylittleman!Height,fivefeetfourinches,
egg-shapedhead carried alittle to oneside, eyes that shonegreen when hewas excited, stiff military
moustache,airofdignityimmense!Hewasneatanddandifiedinappearance.Forneatnessofanykind
hehadanabsolutepassion.Toseeanornamentsetcrookedly,oraspeckofdust,oraslightdisarrayin
one'sattire,wastorturetothelittlemanuntilhecouldeasehisfeelingsbyremedyingthematter.'Order'
and 'Method' were his gods. He had a certain disdain for tangible evidence, such as footprints and
cigarette ash, and would maintain that taken by themselves, they would never enable a detective to
solve a problem. Then he would tap his egg-shaped head with absurd complacency, and remark with
greatsatisfaction:

'Thetruework,itisdonefromwithin.Thelittlegreycells-rememberalwaysthelittlegreycells,mon
ami!'

Islippedintomyseat,andremarkedidly,inanswertoPoirot'sgreeting,thatanhour'sseapassagefrom
CalaistoDovercouldhardlybedignifiedbytheepitet'terrible'.

'Anythinginterestingcomebythepost?'Iasked.

Poirotshookhisheadwithadissatisfiedair.

'Ihavenotyetexaminedmyletters,butnothingofinterestarrivesnowadays.Thegreatcriminals,the
criminalsofmethod,theydonotexist.'

Heshookhisheaddespondently,andIroaredwithlaughter.

'Cheerup,Poirot,theluckwillchange.Openyourletters.Forallyouknow,theremaybeagreatcase
loomingonthehorizon.'

Poirotsmiled,andtakinguptheneatlittleletteropenerwithwhichheopenedhiscorrespondenceheslit
thetopsoftheseveralenvelopesthatlaybyhisplate.

'Abill.Anotherbill.ItisthatIgrowextravagantinmyoldage.Aha!anotefromJapp.'

'Yes?' I pricked up my ears. The Scotland Yard Inspector had more than once introduced us to an
interestingcase.

'Hemerelythanksme(inhisfashion)foralittlepointintheAberystwythCaseonwhichIwasableto
sethimright.Iamdelightedtohavebeenofservicetohim.'

Poirotcontinuedtoreadhiscorrespondenceplacidly.

'AsuggestionthatIshouldgivealecturetoourlocalBoyScouts.TheCountessofForfanockwillbe
obligedifIwillcallandseeher.Anotherlap-dogwithoutdoubt!Andnowforthelast.Ah-'

Ilookedup,quicktonoticethechangeoftone.Poirotwasreadingattentively.Inaminutehetossedthe
sheetovertome.

'Thisisoutoftheordinary,monami.Readforyourself.'

Theletterwaswrittenonaforeigntypeofpaper,inaboldcharacteristichand:

'VillaGeneviève

Merlinville-sur-Mer

France

DearSir,

IaminneedoftheservicesofadetectiveandforreasonswhichIwillgiveyouhere,donotwishtocall
intheofficialpolice.Ihaveheardofyoufromseveralquarters,andallreportsgotoshowthatyouare
not only a man of decided ability, but one who also knows how to be discreet. I do not wish to trust

detailstothepost,but,onaccountofasecretIpossess,Igoindailyfearofmylife.Iamconvincedthat
thedangerisimminent,andthereforeIbegthatyouwilllosenotimeincrossingtoFrance.Iwillsenda
cartomeetyouatCalais,ifyouwillwiremewhenyouarearriving.Ishallbeobligedifyouwilldrop
all cases you have on hand, and devote yourself solely to my interests. I am prepared to pay any
compensationnecessary.Ishallprobablyneedyourservicesforaconsiderableperiodoftime,asitmay
benecessaryforyoutogoouttoSantiagowhereIspentseveralyearsofmylife.Ishallbecontentfor
youtonameyourownfee.

Assuringyouoncemorethatthematterisurgent.

Yoursfaithfully,

P.T.Renauld'

Belowthesignaturewasahastilyscrawledline,almostillegible:

'ForGod'ssake,come!'

Ihandedtheletterbackwithquickenedpulses.

'Atlast!'Isaid.'Hereissomethingdistinctlyoutoftheordinary.'

'Yes,indeed,'saidPoirotmeditatively.

'Youwillgoofcourse,'Icontinued.

Poirotnodded.Hewasthinkingdeeply.Finallyheseemedtomakeuphismind,andglancedupatthe
clock.Hisfacewasverygrave.

'Seeyou,myfriend,thereisnotimetolose.TheContinentalexpressleavesVictoriaat11o'clock.Do
notagitateyourself.Thereisplentyoftime.Wecanallowtenminutesfordiscussion.Youaccompany
me,n'est-cepas?'

'Well...'

'Youtoldmeyourselfthatyouremployerneededyounotforthenextfewweeks.'

'Oh,that'sallright.ButthisMrRenauldhintsstronglythathisbusinessisprivate.'

'Ta-ta-ta-IwillmanageM.Renauld.Bytheway,youseemtoknowthename?'

'There'sawell-knownSouthAmericanmillionairefellow.Hisname'sRenauld.Idon'tknowwhetherit
couldbethesame.'

'Butwithoutdoubt.ThatexplainsthementionofSantiago.SantiagoisinChile,andChileitisinSouth
America!Ah,butweprogressfinely!Youremarkedthepostscript?Howdiditstrikeyou?'

Iconsidered.

'Clearlyhewrotetheletterkeepinghimselfwellinhand,butattheendhisself-controlsnappedandon
theimpulseofthemoment,hescrawledthosefourdesperatewords.'

Butmyfriendshookhisheadenergetically.

'Youareinerror.Seeyounotthatwhiletheinkofthesignatureisnearlyblack,thatofthepostscriptis
quitepale?'

'Well?'Isaid,puzzled.

'Mon Dieu, mon ami, but use your little grey cells! Is it not obvious? M. Renauld wrote his letter.
Without blotting it, he re-read it carefully. Then, not on impulse, but deliberately, he added those last
words,andblottedthesheet.'

'Butwhy?'

'Parbleu!sothatitshouldproducetheeffectuponmethatithasuponyou.'

'What?'

'Mais oui - to make sure of my coming! He re-read the letter and was dissatisfied. It was not strong
enough!'

Hepaused,andthenaddedsoftly,hiseyesshiningwiththatgreenlightthatalwaysbetokenedinward
excitement:

'And so, mon ami, since that postscript was added, not on impulse, but soberly, in cold blood, the
urgencyisverygreat,andwemustreachhimassoonaspossible.'

'Merlinville,'Imurmuredthoughtfully.'I'veheardofit,Ithink.'

Poirotnodded.

'Itisaquietlittleplace-butchic!ItliesaboutmidwaybetweenBoulogneandCalais.MrRenauldhasa
houseinEngland,Isuppose?'

'Yes,inRutlandGate,asfarasIremember.Alsoabigplaceinthecountry,somewhereinHertfordshire.
ButIreallyknowverylittleabouthim,hedoesn'tdomuchinasocialway.IbelievehehaslargeSouth
AmericaninterestsintheCity,andhasspentmostofhislifeoutinChileandtheArgentine.'

'Well,weshallhearalldetailsfromthemanhimself.Come,letuspack.Asmallsuit-caseeach,andthen
ataxitoVictoria.'

Eleven o'clock saw our departure from Victoria on our way to Dover. Before starting Poirot had
dispatchedatelegramtoMrRenauldgivingthetimeofourarrivalatCalais.

Ontheboat,Iknewbetterthantodisturbmyfriend'ssolitude.Theweatherwasgorgeous,andthesea
as smooth as the proverbial mill-pond so I was hardly surprised when a smiling Poirot joined me on
disembarkingatCalais.Adisappointmentwasinstoreforus,asnocarhadbeensenttomeetus,but
Poirotputthisdowntohistelegramhavingbeendelayedintransit.

'Wewillhireacar,'hesaidcheerfully.Andafewminuteslatersawuscreakingandjoltingalong,inthe
mostram-shackleofautomobilesthateverpliedforhire,inthedirectionofMerlinville.

Myspiritswereattheirhighest,butmylittlefriendwasobservingmegravely.

'YouarewhattheScotchpeoplecall"fey",Hastings.Itpresagesdisaster.'

'Nonsense.Atanyrate,youdonotsharemyfeelings.'

'No,butIamafraid.'

'Afraidofwhat?'

'Idonotknow.ButIhaveapremonition-ajenesaiquoi!'

HespokesogravelythatIwasimpressedinspiteofmyself.

'Ihaveafeeling,'hesaidslowly,'thatthisisgoingtobeabigaffair-along,troublesomeproblemthat
willnotbeeasytoworkout.'

Iwouldhavequestionedhimfurther,butwewerejustcomingintothelittletownofMerlinville,andwe
sloweduptoinquirethewaytotheVillaGeneviève.

'Straighton,monsieur,throughthetown.TheVillaGenevièveisabouthalfamiletheotherside.You
cannotmissit.AbigVilla,over-lookingthesea.'

Wethankedourinformant,anddroveon,leavingthetownbehind.Aforkintheroadbroughtustoa
secondhalt.

A peasant was trudging towards us, and we waited for him to come up to us in order to ask the way
again.TherewasatinyVillastandingrightbytheroad,butitwastoosmallanddilapidatedtobethe
onewewanted.Aswewaited,thegateofitswungopenandagirlcameout.

Thepeasantwaspassingusnow,andthedriverleanedforwardfromhisseatandaskedfordirection.

'TheVillaGeneviève?Justafewstepsupthisroadtotheright,monsieur.Youcouldseeitifitwerenot
forthecurve.'

The chauffeur thanked him, and started the car again. My eyes were fascinated by the girl who still
stood, with one hand on the gate, watching us. I am an admirer of beauty, and here was one whom
nobody could have passed without remark. Very tall, with the proportions of a young goddess, her

uncovered golden head gleaming in the sunlight, I swore to myself that she was one of the most
beautifulgirlsIhadeverseen.Asweswunguptheroughroad,Iturnedmyheadtolookafterher.

'Byjove,Poirot,'Iexclaimed,'didyouseethatyounggoddess?'

Poirotraisedhiseyebrows.

'Çacommence?'hemurmured.'Alreadyyouhaveseenagoddess!'

'But,hangitall,wasn'tshe?'

'Possibly,Ididnotremarkthefact.'

'Surelyyounoticedher?'

'Monami,twopeoplerarelyseethesamething.You,forinstance,sawagoddess.I-'Hehesitated.

'Yes?'

'Isawonlyagirlwithanxiouseyes,'saidPoirotgravely.

But at that moment we drew up at a big green gate, and, simultaneously, we both uttered an
exclamation.Beforeitstoodanimposingsergentdeville.Hehelduphishandtobarourway.

'Youcannotpass,messieurs.'

'ButwewishtoseeMrRenauld,'Icried.'Wehaveanappointment.ThisishisVilla,isn'tit?'

'Yes,monsieur,but-'

Poirotleanedforward.

'Butwhat?'

'MonsieurRenauldwasmurderedthismorning.'

Chapter3

ATTHEVILLAGENEVIÈVE

InamomentPoirothadleaptfromthecar,hiseyesblazingwithexcitement.

'Whatisthatyousay?Murdered?When?How?'

Thesergentdevilledrewhimselfup.

'Icannotansweranyquestions,monsieur.'

'True. I comprehend.' Poirot reflected for a minute. 'The Commissary of Police, he is without doubt
within?'

'Yes,monsieur.'

Poirottookoutacard,andscribbledafewwordsonit.

'Voilà!Willyouhavethegoodnesstoseethatthiscardissentintothecommissaryatonce?'

Themantookitand,turninghisheadoverhisshoulder,whistled.Inafewsecondsacomradejoined
him,andwashandedPoirot'smessage.Therewasawaitofsomeminutes,andthenashort,stoutman
withahugemoustachecamebustlingdowntothegate.Thesergentdevillesalutedandstoodaside.

'My dear Monsieur Poirot,' cried the newcomer, 'I am delighted to see you. Your arrival is most
opportune.'

Poirot'sfacehadlightedup.

'MonsieurBex!Thisisindeedapleasure.'Heturnedtome.'ThisisanEnglishfriendofmine,Captain

Hastings-MonsieurLucienBex.'

ThecommissaryandIbowedtoeachotherceremoniously,thenM.BexturnedoncemoretoPoirot.

'Monvieux,Ihavenotseenyousince1909,thattimeinOstend.Youhaveinformationtogivewhich
mayassistus?'

'Possiblyyouknowitalready.YouwereawarethatIhadbeensentfor?'

'No.Bywhom?'

'The dead man. It seems that he knew an attempt was going to be made on his life. Unfortunately he
sentformetoolate.'

'Sacré tonnerre,' ejaculated the Frenchman. 'So he foresaw his own murder. That upsets our theories
considerably!Butcomeinside.'

Heheldthegateopen,andwecommencedwalkingtowardsthehouse.M.Bexcontinuedtotalk:

'Theexaminingmagistrate,MonsieurHautet,musthearofthisatonce.Hehasjustfinishedexamining
thesceneofthecrimeandisabouttobeginhisinterrogations.'

'Whenwasthecrimecommitted?'askedPoirot.

'Thebodywasdiscoveredthismorningaboutnineo'clock.MadameRenauld'sevidenceandthatofthe
doctorsgoestoshowthatdeathmusthaveoccurredabout2a.m.Butenter,Iprayofyou.'

We had arrived at the steps which led up to the front door of the Villa. In the hall another sergent de
villewassitting.Heroseatsightofthecommissary.

'WhereisMonsieurHautetnow?'inquiredthelatter.

'Inthehall,monsieur.'

M.Bexopenedadoortotheleftofthehall,andwepassedin.M.Hautetandhisclerkweresittingata
big round table. They looked up as we entered. The commissary introduced us, and explained our
presence.

M.Hautet,theJuged'Instruction,wasatallgauntman,withpiercingdarkeyes,andaneatlycutgrey
beard,whichhehadahabitofcaressingashetalked.Standingbythemantelpiecewasanelderlyman,
withslightlystoopingshoulders,whowasintroducedtousasDrDurand.

'Most extraordinary,' remarked M. Hautet as the commissary finished speaking. 'You have the letter
here,monsieur?'

Poirothandedittohim,andthemagistratereadit.

'H'm! He speaks of a secret. What a pity he was not more explicit. We are much indebted to you,
Monsieur Poirot. I hope you will do us the honour of assisting us in our investigations. Or are you
obligedtoreturntoLondon?'

'Monsieurlejuge,Iproposetoremain.Ididnotarriveintimetopreventmyclient'sdeath,butIfeel
myselfboundinhonourtodiscovertheassassin.'

Themagistratebowed.

'These sentiments do you honour. Also, without doubt, Madame Renauld will wish to retain your
services.WeareexpectingM.GiraudfromtheSûretéinParisanymoment,andIamsurethatyouand
hewillbeabletogiveeachothermutualassistanceinyourinvestigations.Inthemeantime,Ihopethat
youwilldomethehonourtobepresentatmyinterrogations,andIneedhardlysaythatifthereisany
assistanceyourequireitisatyourdisposal.'

'Ithankyou,monsieur.YouwillcomprehendthatatpresentIamcompletelyinthedark.Iknownothing
whatever.'

M.Hautetnoddedtothecommissary,andthelattertookupthetale:

'This morning, the old servant Françoise, on descending to start her work, found the front door ajar.
Feeling a momentary alarm as to burglars, she looked into the dining-room, but seeing the silver was
safeshethoughtnomoreaboutit,concludingthathermasterhad,withoutdoubt,risenearly,andgone

forastroll.'

'Pardon,monsieur,forinterrupting,butwasthatacommonpracticeofhis?'

'No,itwasnot,butoldFrançoisehasthecommonideaasregardstheEnglish-thattheyaremad,and
liabletodothemostunaccountablethingsatanymoment!Goingtocallhermistressasusual,ayoung
maid, Léonie, was horrified to discover her gagged and bound, and almost at the same moment news
wasbroughtthatMonsieurRenauld'sbodyhadbeendiscovered,stone-dead,stabbedintheback.'

'Where?'

'That is one of the most extraordinary features of the case. Monsieur Poirot, the body was lying face
downwards,onanopengrave.'

'What?'

'Yes.Thepitwasfreshlydug-justafewyardsoutsidetheboundaryoftheVilla.'

'Andithadbeendeadhowlong?'

DrDurandanswered.

'I examined the body this morning at ten o'clock. Death must have taken place at least seven and
possiblytenhourspreviously.'

'H'm!thatfixesitatbetweenmidnightand3am.'

'Exactly,andMrsRenauld'sevidenceplacesitatafter2am,whichnarrowsthefieldstillfarther.Death
musthavebeeninstantaneous,andnaturallycouldnothavebeenself-inflicted.'

Poirotnodded,andthecommissaryresumed:

'MadameRenauldwashastilyfreedfromthecordsthatboundherbythehorrifiedservants.Shewasin
a terrible condition of weakness, almost unconscious from the pain of her bonds. It appears that two

maskedmenenteredthebed-room,gaggedandboundher,whileforciblyabductingherhusband.This
weknowatsecondhandfromtheservants.Onhearingthetragicnewsshefellatonceintoanalarming
stateofagitation.Onarrival,DrDurandimmediatelyprescribedasedative,andwehavenotyetbeen
abletoquestionher.Butwithoutdoubtshewillawakemorecalm,andbeequaltobearingthestrainof
theinterrogation.'

Thecommissarypaused.

'Andtheinmatesofthehome,monsieur?'

'ThereisoldFrançoise,thehousekeeper,shelivedformanyyearswiththeformerownersoftheVilla
Geneviève. Then there are two young girls, sisters, Denise and Léonie Oulard. Their home is in
Merlinville, and they come of most respectable parents. Then there is the chauffeur whom Monsieur
RenauldbroughtoverfromEnglandwithhim,butheisawayonaholiday.FinallythereareMadame
Renauldandherson,MonsieurJackRenauld.He,too,isawayfromhomeatpresent.'

Poirotbowedhishead.M.Hautetspoke:

'Marchaud!'

Thesergentdevilleappeared.

'BringinthewomanFrançoise.'

Themansaluted,anddisappeared.Inamomentortwohereturned,escortingthefrightenedFrançoise.

'YournameisFrançoiseArrichet?'

'Yes,monsieur.'

'YouhavebeenalongtimeinserviceattheVillaGeneviève?'

'Eleven years with Madame la Vicomtesse. Then when she sold the Villa this spring, I consented to
remainonwiththeEnglishtailor.NeverdidIimagine-'

Themagistratecuthershort.

'Withoutdoubt,withoutdoubt.Now,Françoise,inthismatterofthefrontdoor,whosebusinesswasitto
fastenitatnight?'

'Mine,monsieur.AlwaysIsawtoitmyself.'

'Andlastnight?'

'Ifasteneditasusual.'

'Youaresureofthat?'

'Iswearitbytheblessedsaints,monsieur.'

'Whattimewouldthatbe?'

'Thesametimeasusual,halfpastten,monsieur.'

'Whatabouttherestofthehousehold,hadtheygoneuptobed?'

'Madamehadretiredsometimebefore.DeniseandLéoniewentupwithme.Monsieurwasstillinhis
study.'

'Then,ifanyoneunfastenedthedoorafterwards,itmusthavebeenMonsieurRenauldhimself.'

Françoiseshruggedherbroadshoulders.

'Whatshouldhedothatfor?Withrobbersandassassinspassingeveryminute!Aniceidea!Monsieur
wasnotanimbecile.Itisnotasthoughhehadhadtolettheladyout-'

Themagistrateinterruptedsharply:

'Thelady?Whatladydoyoumean?'

'Why,theladywhocametoseehim.'

'Hadaladybeentoseehimthatevening?'

'Butyesmonsieur-andmanyothereveningsaswell.'

'Whowasshe?Didyouknowher?'

Arathercunninglookspreadoverthewoman'sface.

'HowshouldIknowwhoitwas?'shegrumbled.'Ididnotletherinlastnight.'

'Aha!'roaredtheexaminingmagistrate,bringinghishanddownwithabangonthetable.'Youwould
triflewiththepolice,wouldyou?Idemandthatyoutellmeatoncethenameofthiswomanwhocame
tovisitMonsieurRenauldintheevenings.'

'The police - the police,' grumbled Françoise. 'Never did I think that I should be mixed up with the
police.ButIknowwellenoughwhoshewas.ItwasMadameDaubreuil-'

Thecommissaryutteredanexclamation,andleanedforwardasthoughinutterastonishment.

'MadameDaubreuil-fromtheVillaMargueritejustdowntheroad?'

'ThatiswhatIsaid,monsieur.Oh,sheisaprettyone.'

Theoldwomantossedherheadscornfully.

'MadameDaubreuil,'murmuredthecommissary.'Impossible.'

'Voilà,'grumbledFrançoise.'Thatisallyougetfortellingthetruth.'

'Notatall,'saidtheexaminingmagistratesoothingly.'Weweresurprised,thatisall.MadameDaubreuil
then,andMonsieurRenauld,theywere-?'Hepauseddelicately.'Eh?Itwasthatwithoutdoubt?'

'HowshouldIknow?Butwhatwillyou?Monsieur,hewasmilordanglais-trèsriche-andMadame
Daubreuil,shewaspoor,thatone-andtrèschic,forallthatshelivessoquietlywithherdaughter.Nota
doubtofit,shehashadherhistory!Sheisnolongeryoung,butmafoi!Iwhospeaktoyouhaveseen
themen'sheadsturnafterherasshegoesdownthestreet.Besideslately,shehashadmoremoneyto
spend-allthetownknowsit.Thelittleeconomies,theyareatanend.'AndFrançoiseshookherhead
withanairofunalterablecertainty.

M.Hautetstrokedhisbeardreflectively.

'AndMadameRenauld?'heaskedatlength.'Howdidshetakethis-friendship?'

Françoiseshruggedhershoulders.

'She was always most amiable - most polite. One would say that she suspected nothing. But all the
same, is it not so, the heart suffers, monsieur? Day by day, I have watched Madame grow paler and
thinner.Shewasnotthesamewomanwhoarrivedhereamonthago.Monsieur,too,haschanged.He
alsohashadhisworries.Onecouldseethathewasonthebrinkofacrisisofthenerves.Andwhocould
wonder,withanaffairconductedinsuchafashion?Noreticence,nodiscretion.Styleanglais-without
doubt!'

I bounded indignantly in my seat but the examining magistrate was continuing his questions,
undistractedbysideissues.

'YousaythatMonsieurRenauldhadnottoletMadameDaubreuilout?Hadsheleft,then?'

'Yes,monsieur.Iheardthemcomeoutofthestudyandgotothedoor.Monsieursaidgood-nightand
shutthedoorafterher.'

'Whattimewasthat?'

'Abouttwenty-fiveminutesaftermidnight,monsieur.'

'DoyouknowwhenMonsieurRenauldwenttobed?'

'Iheardhimcomeupabouttenminutesafterwedid.Thestaircreakssothatonehearseveryonewho
goesupanddown.'

'Andthatisall?Youheardnosoundofdisturbanceduringthenight?'

'Nothingwhatever,monsieur.'

'Whichoftheservantscamedownthefirstinthemorning?'

'Idid,monsieur.AtonceIsawthedoorswingingopen.'

'Whatabouttheotherdownstairswindows,weretheyallfastened?'

'Everyoneofthem.Therewasnothingsuspiciousoroutofplaceanywhere.'

'Good.Françoise,youcango.'

Theoldwomanshuffledtowardsthedoor.Onthethresholdshelookedback.

'I will tell you one thing, monsieur. That Madame Daubreuil she is a bad one! Oh, yes, one woman
knowsaboutanother.Sheisabadone,rememberthat.'And,shakingherheadsagely,Françoiseleftthe
room.

'LéonieOulard,'calledthemagistrate.

Léonieappeareddissolvedintears,andinclinedtobehysterical.M.Hautetdealtwithheradroitly.Her
evidence was mainly concerned with the discovery of her mistress gagged and bound, of which she
gaveratheranexaggeratedaccount.She,likeFrançoise,hadheardnothingduringthenight.

Hersister,Denise,succeededher.Sheagreedthathermasterhadchangedgreatlyoflate.

'Everydayhebecamemoreandmoremorose.Heateless.Hewasalwaysdepressed.'ButDenisehad
herowntheory.'WithoutdoubtitwastheMafiahehadonhistrack!Twomaskedmen-whoelsecould
itbe?Aterriblesocietythat!'

'Itofcourse,possible,'saidthemagistratesmoothly.'Now,mygirl,wasityouwhoadmittedMadame
Daubreuiltothehouselastnight?'

'Notlastnight,monsieur,thenightbefore.'

'ButFrançoisehasjusttoldusthatMadameDaubreuilwasherelastnight?'

'No,monsieur.AladydidcometoseeMonsieurRenauldlastnight,butitwasnotMadameDaubreuil.'

Surprised, the magistrate insisted, but the girl held firm. She knew Madame Daubreuil perfectly by
sight.Thisladywasdarkalso,butshorter,andmuchyounger.Nothingcouldshakeherstatement.

'Hadyoueverseenthisladybefore?'

'Never,monsieur.'Andthenthegirladdeddiffidently:'ButIthinkshewasEnglish.'

'English?'

'Yes,monsieur.SheaskedforMonsieurRenauldinquitegoodFrench,buttheaccent-howeverslight-
onecanalwaystellit.Besides,whentheycameoutofthestudytheywerespeakinginEnglish.'

'Didyouhearwhattheysaid?Couldyouunderstandit,Imean?'

'IspeaktheEnglishverywell,'saidDenisewithpride.'Theladywasspeakingtoofastformetocatch
whatshesaid,butIheardMonsieur'slastwordsasheopenedthedoorforher.'Shepaused,andthen
repeatedcarefullyandlaboriously:'"Yeas-yeas-butforGaud'ssaikegonouw!"'

'Yes,yes,butforGod'ssakegonow!'repeatedthemagistrate.HedismissedDeniseand,afteramoment
ortwoforconsideration,recalledFrançoise.Toherheputthequestionastowhethershehadnotmade
a mistake in fixing the night of Madame Daubreuil's visit. Françoise, however, proved unexpectedly
obstinate.ItwaslastnightthatMadameDaubreuilhadbeen.Withoutadoubtitwasshe.Denisewished

tomakeherselfinteresting,voilàtout!Soshehadcookedupthisfinetaleaboutastrangelady.Airing
herknowledgeofEnglish,too!ProbablyMonsieurhadneverspokenthatsentenceinEnglishatall,and,
even if he had, it proved nothing, for Madame Daubreuil spoke English perfectly, and generally used
that language when talking to Monsieur and Madame Renauld. 'You see, Monsieur Jack, the son of
Monsieur,wasusuallyhere,andhespoketheFrenchverybadly.'

Themagistratedidnotinsist.Instead,heinquiredaboutthechauffeur,andlearnedthatonlyyesterday
MonsieurRenauldhaddeclaredthathewasnotlikelytousethecar,andthatMastersmightjustaswell
takeaholiday.

AperplexedfrownwasbeginningtogatherbetweenPoirot'seyes.

'Whatisit?'Iwhispered.

Heshookhisheadimpatiently,andaskedaquestion:

'Pardon,MonsieurBex,butwithoutdoubtMonsieurRenauldcoulddrivethecarhimself?'

ThecommissarylookedoveratFrançoise,andtheoldwomanrepliedpromptly:

'No,Monsieurdidnotdrivehimself.'

Poirot'sfrowndeepened.

'Iwishyouwouldtellmewhatisworryingyou,'Isaidimpatiently.

'Seeyounot?InhisletterMonsieurRenauldspeaksofsendingthecarformetoCalais.'

'Perhapshemeantahiredcar,'Isuggested.

'Doubtless, that is so. But why hire a car when you have one of your own? Why choose yesterday to
sendawaythechauffeuronaholiday-suddenly,atamoment'snotice?Wasitthatforsomereasonhe
wantedhimoutofthewaybeforewearrived?'

Chapter4

THELETTERSIGNED'BELLA'

Françoisehadlefttheroom.Themagistratewasdrummingthoughtfullyonthetable.

'MonsieurBex,'hesaidatlength,'herewehavedirectlyconflictingtestimony.Whicharewetobelieve,
FrançoiseorDenise?'

'Denise,'saidthecommissarydecidedly.'Itwasshewholetthevisitorin.Françoiseisoldandobstinate
andhasevidentlytakenadisliketoMadameDaubreuil.Besides,ourownknowledgetendstoshowthat
Renauldwasentangledwithanotherwoman.'

'Tiens!'criedM.Hautet.'WehaveforgottentoinformMonsieurPoirotofthat.'Hesearchedamongthe
papersonthetable,andfinallyhandedtheonehewasinsearchoftomyfriend.'Thisletter,Monsieur
Poirot,wefoundinthepocketofthedeadman'sovercoat.'

Poirot took it and unfolded it. It was somewhat worn and crumpled, and was written in English in a
ratherunformedhand:

MyDear,

Whyhaveyounotwrittenforsolong?Youdolovemestill,don'tyou?Yourletterslatelyhavebeenso
different,cold,andstrange,andnowthislongsilence.Itmakesmeafraid.Ifyouweretostoploving
me!Butthat'simpossible-whatasillykidIam-alwaysimaginingthings!Butifyoudidstoploving
me,Idon'tknowwhatIshoulddo-killmyselfperhaps!Icouldn'tlivewithoutyou.SometimesIfancy
anotherwomaniscomingbetweenus.Letherlookout,that'sall-andyoutoo!I'dassoonkillyouas
letherhaveyou!Imeanit.

Butthere,I'mwritinghigh-flownnonsense.Youloveme,andIloveyou-yes,loveyou,loveyou,love
you!

Yourownadoring,

Bella.

Therewasnoaddressordate.Poirothandeditbackwithagraveface.

'Andtheassumptionis-?'

Theexaminingmagistrateshruggedhisshoulders.

'Obviously Monsieur Renauld was entangled with this Englishwoman - Bella! He comes over here,
meets Madame Daubreuil, and starts an intrigue with her. He cools off to the other, and she instantly
suspectssomething.Thislettercontainsadistinctthreat.MonsieurPoirot,atfirstsightthecaseseemed
simplicity itself. Jealousy! The fact that Monsieur Renauld was stabbed in the back seemed to point
distinctlytoitsbeingawoman'scrime.'

Poirotnodded.

'Thestabintheback,yes-butnotthegrave!Thatwaslaboriouswork,hardwork-nowomandugthat
grave,Monsieur.Thatwasaman'sdoing.'

Thecommissaryexclaimedexcitedly:

'Yes,yes,youareright.Wedidnotthinkofthat.'

'As I said,' continued M. Hautet, 'at first sight the case seemed simple, but the masked men, and the
letter you received from Monsieur Renauld, complicate matters. Here we seem to have an entirely
different set of circumstances with no relationship between the two. As regards the letter written to
yourself,doyouthinkitispossiblethatitreferredinanywaytothis"Bella"andherthreats?'

Poirotshookhishead.

'Hardly.AmanlikeMonsieurRenauld,whohasledanadventurouslifeinout-of-the-wayplaces,would
notbelikelytoaskforprotectionagainstawoman.'

Theexaminingmagistratenoddedhisheademphatically.

'Myviewexactly.Thenwemustlookfortheexplanationoftheletter-'

'InSantiago,'finishedthecommissary.'Ishallcablewithoutdelaytothepoliceinthatcity,requesting
full details of the murdered man's life out there, his love affairs, his business transactions, his
friendships, and any enmities he may have incurred. It will be strange if, after that, we do not hold a
cluetohismysteriousmurder.'

Thecommissarylookedroundforapproval.

'Excellent!'saidPoirotappreciatively.

'YouhavefoundnootherlettersfromMrsBellaamongMonsieurRenauld'seffects?'askedPoirot.

'No. Of course one of our first proceedings was to search through his private papers in the study. We
foundnothingofinterest,however.Allseemedsquareandaboveboard.Theonlythingatalloutofthe
ordinarywashiswill.Hereitis.'

Poirotranthroughthedocument.

'So.AlegacyofathousandpoundstoMrStonor-whoishe,bytheway?'

'MonsieurRenauld'ssecretary.HeremainedinEngland,butwasoverhereonceortwiceforaweekend.'

'And everything else left unconditionally to his beloved wife, Eloise. Simply drawn up, but perfectly
legal. Witnessed by the two servants, Denise and Françoise. Nothing so very unusual about that.' He
handeditback.

'Perhaps,'beganBex,'youdidnotnotice-'

'Thedate?'twinkledPoirot.'But,yes,Inoticedit.Afortnightago.Possiblyitmarkshisfirstintimation
ofdanger.Manyrichmendieintestatethroughneverconsideringthelikelihoodoftheirdemise.Butit
is dangerous to draw conclusions prematurely. It points, however, to his having a real liking and
fondnessforhiswife,inspiteofhisamorousintrigues.'

'Yes,'saidM.Hautetdoubtfully.'Butitispossiblyalittleunfaironhisson,sinceitleaveshimentirely
dependentonhismother.Ifsheweretomarryagain,andhersecondhusbandobtainedanascendancy
overher,thisboymightnevertouchapennyofhisfather'smoney.'

Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.

'Manisavainanimal.MonsieurRenauldfiguredtohimself,withoutdoubt,thathiswidowwouldnever
marry again. As to the son, it may have been a wise precaution to leave the money in his mother's
hands.Thesonsofrichmenareproverbiallywild.'

'It may be as you say. Now, Monsieur Poirot, you would without doubt like to visit the scene of the
crime. I am sorry that the body has been removed, but of course photographs have been taken from
everyconceivableangle,andwillbeatyourdisposalassoonastheyareavailable.'

'Ithankyou,monsieur,forallyourcourtesy.'

Thecommissaryrose.

'Comewithme,messieurs.'

Heopenedthedoor,andbowedceremoniouslytoPoirottoprecedehim.Poirot,withequalpoliteness,
drewbackandbowedtothecommissary.

'Monsieur.'

'Monsieur.'

Atlasttheygotoutintothehall.

'Thatroomthere,itisthestudy,hein?'askedPoirotsuddenly,noddingtowardsthedooropposite.

'Yes.Youwouldliketoseeit?'Hethrewopenthedoorashespoke,andweentered.

TheroomwhichM.Renauldhadchosenforhisownparticularusewassmall,butfurnishedwithgreat
taste and comfort. A business-like writing-desk, with many pigeon-holes, stood in the window. Two
largeleather-coveredarm-chairsfacedthefireplace,andbetweenthemwasaroundtablecoveredwith
thelatestbooksandmagazines.

Poirot stood a moment taking in the room, then he stepped forward, passed his hand lightly over the
backs of the leather chairs, picked up a magazine from the table, and drew a finger gingerly over the
surfaceoftheoaksideboard.Hisfaceexpressedcompleteapproval.

'Nodust?'Iasked,withasmile.

Hebeamedonme,appreciativeofmyknowledgeofhispeculiarities.

'Notaparticle,monami!Andforonce,perhaps,itisapity.'

Hissharp,birdlikeeyesdartedhereandthere.

'Ah!'heremarkedsuddenly,withanintonationofrelief.'Thehearth-rugiscrooked,'andhebentdown
tostraightenit.

Suddenlyheutteredanexclamationandrose.Inhishandheheldasmallfragmentofpinkpaper.

'InFrance,asinEngland,'heremarked,'thedomesticsomittosweepunderthemats?'

Bextookthefragmentfromhim,andIcameclosetoexamineit.

'Yourecognizeit-eh,Hastings?'

Ishookmyhead,puzzled-andyetthatparticularshadeofpinkpaperwasveryfamiliar.

Thecommissary'smentalprocesseswerequickerthanmine.

'Afragmentofacheque,'heexclaimed.

Thepieceofpaperwasroughlyabouttwoinchessquare.Onitwaswrittenininktheword'Duveen'.

'Bien,'saidBex.'Thischequewaspayableto,ordrawnby,someonenamedDuveen.'

'The former, I fancy,' said Poirot. 'For, if I am not mistaken, the handwriting is that of Monsieur
Renauld.'

Thatwassoonestablished,bycomparingitwithamemorandumfromthedesk.

'Dear me,' murmured the commissary, with a crestfallen air, 'I really cannot imagine how I came to
overlookthis.'

Poirotlaughed.

'Themoralofthatis,alwayslookunderthemats!MyfriendHastingsherewilltellyouthatanythingin
theleastcrookedisatormenttome.AssoonasIsawthatthehearth-rugwasoutofthestraight,Isaid
to myself: "Tiens! The legs of the chair caught it in being pushed back. Possibly there may be
somethingbeneathitwhichthegoodFrançoiseoverlooked."'

'Françoise?'

'OrDenise,orLéonie.Whoeverdidthisroom.Sincethereisnodust,theroommusthavebeendone
thismorning.Ireconstructtheincidentlikethis.Yesterday,possiblylastnight,MonsieurRenaulddrew
achequetotheorderofsomeonenamedDuveen.Afterwardsitwastornup,andscatteredonthefloor.
Thismorning-'

ButM.Bexwasalreadypullingimpatientlyatthebell.Françoiseansweredit.Yes,therehadbeenalot
ofpiecesofpaperonthefloor.Whathadshedonewiththem?Puttheminthekitchenstoveofcourse!
Whatelse?Withagestureofdespair,Bexdismissedher.Then,hisfacelightening,herantothedesk.In
aminutehewashuntingthroughthedeadman'schequebook.Thenherepeatedhisformergesture.The
lastcounterfoilwasblank.

'Courage!'criedPoirot,clappinghimontheback.'Withoutdoubt,MadameRenauldwillbeabletotell
usallaboutthismysteriouspersonnamedDuveen.'

Thecommissary'sfacecleared.'Thatistrue.Letusproceed.'

Asweturnedtoleavetheroom,Poirotremarkedcasually:

'ItwasherethatMonsieurRenauldreceivedhisguestlastnight,eh?'

'Itwas-buthowdidyouknow?'

'Bythis.Ifounditonthebackoftheleatherchair.'Andheheldupbetweenhisfingerandthumbalong

blackhair-awoman'shair!

M.Bextookusoutbythebackofthehousetowheretherewasasmallshedleaningagainstthehouse.
Heproducedakeyfromhispocketandunlockedit.

'Thebodyishere.Wemoveditfromthesceneofthecrimejustbeforeyouarrived,asthephotographers
haddonetheirjob.'

He opened the door and we passed. The murdered man lay on the ground, with a sheet over him. M.
Bex dexterously whipped off the covering. Renauld was a man of medium height, slender, and lithe
figure.Helookedaboutfiftyyearsofage,andhisdarkhairwasplentifullystreakedwithgrey.Hewas
cleanshaven,withalongthinnose,andeyessetratherclosetogether,andhisskinwasdeeplybronzed,
asthatofamanwhohadspentmostofhislifebeneathtropicalskies.Hislipsweredrawnbackfrom
histeethandanexpressionofabsoluteamazementandterrorwasstampedonthelividfeatures.

'Onecanseebyhisfacethathewasstabbedintheback,'remarkedPoirot.

Verygently,heturnedthedeadmanover.There,betweentheshoulder-blades,stainingthelightfawn
overcoat, was a round dark patch. In the middle of it there was a slit in the cloth. Poirot examined it
narrowly.

'Haveyouanyideawithwhatweaponthecrimewascommitted?'

'Itwasleftinthewound.'Thecommissaryreacheddownalargeglassjar.Initwasasmallobjectthat
looked to me more like a paper-knife than anything else. It had a black handle and a narrow shining
blade.Thewholethingwasnotmorethantenincheslong.Poirottestedthediscolouredpointgingerly
withhisfinger-tip.

'Mafoi!Itissharp!Aniceeasylittletoolformurder.'

'Unfortunately, we could find no trace of fingerprints on it,' remarked Bex regretfully. 'The murderer
musthaveworngloves.'

'Ofcoursehedid,'saidPoirotcontemptuously.'EveninSantiagotheyknowenoughforthat.Theveriest
amateur of an English knows it - thanks to the publicity the Bertillon system has been given in the
Press.Allthesame,itinterestsmeverymuchthattherewerenofingerprints.Itissoamazinglysimple
to leave the fingerprints of someone else! And then the police are happy.' He shook his head. 'I very

muchfearourcriminalisnotamanofmethod-eitherthatorhewaspressedfortime.Butweshallsee.'

Heletthebodyfallbackintoitsoriginalposition.

'Heworeonlyunderclothesunderhisovercoat,Isee,'heremarked.

'Yes,theexaminingmagistratethinksthatisratheracuriouspoint.'

At this minute there was a tap on the door which Bex had closed after him. He strode forward and
openedit.Françoisewasthere.Sheendeavouredtopeepinwithghoulishcuriosity.

'Well,whatisit?'demandedBoximpatiently.

'Madame.Shesendsamessagethatsheismuchrecoveredandisquitereadytoreceivetheexamining
magistrate.'

'Good,'saidM.Bexbriskly.'TellMonsieurHautetandsaythatwewillcomeatonce.'

Poirotfingeredamomentlookingbacktowardsthebody.Ithoughtforamomentthathewasgoingto
apostrophizeit,todeclarealoudhisdeterminationnevertoresttillhehaddiscoveredthemurderer.But
when he spoke, it was tamely and awkwardly, and his comment was ludicrously inappropriate to the
solemnityofthemoment.

'Heworehisovercoatverylong,'hesaidconstrainedly.

Chapter5

MRSRENAULD'SSTORY

WefoundM.Hautetawaitingusinthehall,andweallproceededupstairstogether,Françoisemarching
aheadtoshowustheway.Poirotwentupinazigzagfashionwhichpuzzledme,untilhewhisperedwith
agrimace:

'No wonder the servants heard M. Renauld mounting the stairs, not a board of them but creaks fit to
awakethedead!'

Attheheadofthestaircase,asmallpassagebranchedoff.

'Theservants'quarters,'explainedBex.

Wecontinuedalongacorridor,andFrançoisetappedonthelastdoortotherightofit.

Afaintvoicebadeusenter,andwepassedintoalarge,sunnyapartmentlookingouttowardsthesea,
whichshowedblueandsparklingaboutaquarterofamiledistant.

Onacouch,proppedupwithcushions,andattendedbyDrDurand,layatall,striking-lookingwoman.
Shewasmiddle-aged,andheroncedarkhairwasnowalmostentirelysilvered,buttheintensevitality,
andstrengthofherpersonalitywouldhavemadeitselffeltanywhere.Youknewatoncethatyouwere
inthepresenceofwhattheFrenchcallunemaîtressefemme.

Shegreeteduswithadignifiedinclinationofthehead.'Praybeseated,messieurs.'

Wetookchairs,andthemagistrate'sclerkestablishedhimselfataroundtable.

'Ihope,madame,'beganM.Hautet,'thatitwillnotdistressyouundulytorelatetouswhatoccurredlast
night?'

'Not at all, monsieur. I know the value of time, if the scoundrelly assassins are to be caught and
punished.'

'Verywell,madame.Itwillfatigueyouless,Ithink,ifIaskyouquestionsandyouconfineyourselfto
answeringthem.Atwhattimedidyougotobedlastnight?'

'Athalfpastninemonsieur.Iwastired.'

'Andyourhusband?'

'Aboutanhourlater,Ifancy.'

'Didheseemdisturbed-upsetinanyway?'

'No,notmorethanusual.'

'Whathappenedthen?'

'Weslept.Iwasawakenedbyahandbeingpressedovermymouth.Itriedtoscreamout,butthehand
preventedme.Thereweretwomenintheroom.Theywerebothmasked.'

'Canyoudescribethematall,madame?'

'One was very tall, and had a long black beard, the other was short and stout. His beard was reddish.
Theybothworehatspulleddownovertheireyes.'

'H'm!'saidthemagistratethoughtfully.'Toomuchbeard,Ifear.'

'Youmeantheywerefalse?'

'Yes,madame.Butcontinueyourstory.'

'Itwastheshortmanwhowasholdingme.Heforcedagagintomymouth,andthenboundmewith
ropehandandfoot.Theothermanwasstandingovermyhusband.Hehadcaughtupmylittledagger
paper-knifefromthedressing-tableandwasholdingitwiththepointjustoverhisheart.Whentheshort
man had finished with me he joined the other and they forced my husband to get up and accompany
them into the dressing-room next door. I was nearly fainting with terror, nevertheless I listened
desperately.

'Theywerespeakingintoolowatoneformetohearwhattheysaid.ButIrecognizedthelanguage,a
bastard Spanish such as is spoken in some parts of South America. They seemed to be demanding
somethingfrommyhusband,andpresentlytheygrewangryandtheirvoicesrosealittle.Ithinkthetall
manwasspeaking."Youknowwhatwewant?"hesaid."Thesecret!Whereisit?"Idonotknowwhat
myhusbandanswered,buttheotherrepliedfiercely:"Youlie!Weknowyouhaveit.Whereareyour
keys?"

'ThenIheardsoundsofdrawersbeingpulledout.Thereisasafeonthewallofmyhusband'sdressing-
room in which he always keeps a fairly large amount of ready money. Léonie tells me this has been
rifledandthemoneytaken,butevidentlywhattheywerelookingforwasnotthere,forpresentlyIheard
thetallman,withanoath,commandmyhusbandtodresshimself.Soonafterthat,Ithinksomenoisein

thehousemusthavedisturbedthem,fortheyhustledmyhusbandoutintomyroomonlyhalfdressed.'

'Pardon,'interruptedPoirot,'butistherethennootheregressfromthedressing-room?'

'No,monsieurthereisonlythecommunicatingdoorintomyroom.Theyhurriedmyhusbandthrough,
theshortmaninfrontandthetallmanbehindhimwiththedaggerstillinhishand.Paultriedtobreak
awaytocometome.Isawhisagonizedeyes.Heturnedtohiscaptors."Imustspeaktoher,"hesaid.
Then, coming to the side of the bed, "It is all right, Eloise," he said. "Do not be afraid. I shall return
beforemorning."But,althoughhetriedtomakehisvoiceconfident,Icouldseetheterrorinhiseyes.
Then they hustled him out of the door the tall man saying: "One sound - and you are a dead man,
remember."

'Afterthat,'continuedMrsRenauld,'Imusthavefainted.ThenextthingIrecollectisLéonierubbing
mywristsandgivingmebrandy.'

'Madame Renauld,' said the magistrate, 'had you any idea what it was for which the assassins were
searching?'

'Nonewhatever,monsieur.'

'Hadyouanyknowledgethatyourhusbandfearedsomething?'

'Yes.Ihadseenthechangeinhim.'

'Howlongagowasthat?'

MrsRenauldreflected.

'Tendays,perhaps.'

'Notlonger?'

'Possibly.Ionlynoticeditthen.'

'Didyouquestionyourhusbandatallastothecause?'

'Once. He put me off evasively. Nevertheless, I was convinced that he was suffering some terrible
anxiety.However,sinceheevidentlywishedtoconcealthefactfromme,ItriedtopretendthatIhad
noticednothing.'

'Wereyouawarethathehadcalledintheservicesofadetective?'

'Adetective?'exclaimedMrsRenauld,verymuchsurprised.

'Yes, this gentleman - Monsieur Hercule Poirot.' Poirot bowed. 'He arrived today in response to a
summonsfromyourhusband.'AndtakingtheletterwrittenbyM.Renauldfromhispockethehandedit
tothelady.

Shereaditwithapparentlygenuineastonishment.

'Ihadnoideaofthis.Evidentlyhewasfullycognizantofthedanger.'

'Now,madameIwillbegofyoutobefrankwithme.Isthereanyincidentinyourhusband'spastlifein
SouthAmericawhichmightthrowlightonhismurder?'

Mm.Renauldreflecteddeeply,butatlastshookherhead.

'Icanthinkofnone.Certainlymyhusbandhadmanyenemies,peoplehehadgotthebetterofinsome
wayoranother,butIcanthinkofnoonedistinctivecase.Idonotsaythereisnosuchincident-only
thatIamnotawareofit.'

Theexaminingmagistratestrokedhisbearddisconsolately.'Andyoucanfixthetimeofthisoutrage?'

'Yes, I distinctly remember hearing the clock on the mantelpiece strike two.' She nodded towards an
eight-daytravellingclockinaleathercasewhichstoodinthecentreofthechimney-piece.

Poirotrosefromhisseat,scrutinizedtheclockcarefully,andnodded,satisfied.

'And here too,' exclaimed M. Bex, 'is a wristwatch, knocked off the dressing-table by the assassins,
withoutdoubt,andsmashedtoatoms.Littledidtheyknowitwouldtestifyagainstthem.'

Gentlyhepickedawaythefragmentsofbrokenglass.

Suddenlyhisfacechangedtooneofutterstupefaction.

'MonDieu!'heejaculated.

'Whatisit?'

'Thehandsofthewatchpointtoseveno'clock!'

'What?'criedtheexaminingmagistrate,astonished.

But Poirot, deft as ever, took the broken trinket from the startled commissary, and held it to his ear.
Thenhesmiled.

'Theglassisbroken,yesbutthewatchitselfisstillgoing.'

Theexplanationofthemysterywasgreetedwitharelievedsmile.Butthemagistratebethoughthimself
ofanotherpoint.

'Butsurelyitisnotseveno'clocknow?'

'No,'saidPoirotgently,'itisafewminutesafterfive.Possiblythewatchgains,isthatso,madame?'

MrsRenauldwasfrowningperplexedly.

'Itdoesgain,'sheadmitted.'ButI'veneverknownitgainquitesomuchasthat.'

With a gesture of impatience the magistrate left the matter of the watch and proceeded with his
interrogatory.

'Madame,thefrontdoorwasfoundajar.Itseemsalmostcertainthatthemurderersenteredthatway,yet
ithasnotbeenforcedatall.Canyousuggestanyexplanation?'

'Possiblymyhusbandwentoutforastrollthelastthing,andforgottolatchitwhenhecamein.'

'Isthatalikelythingtohappen?'

'Very.Myhusbandwasthemostabsent-mindedofmen.'

Therewasaslightfrownonherbrowasshespokeasthoughthistraitinthedeadman'scharacterhadat
timesvexedher.

'There is one inference I think we might draw,' remarked the commissary suddenly. 'Since the men
insistedonMonsieurRenaulddressinghimself,itlooksasthoughtheplacetheyweretakinghimto,the
placewhere"thesecret"wasconcealed,laysomedistanceaway.'

Themagistratenodded.

'Yes,far,andyetnottoofar,sincehespokeofbeingbackbymorning.'

'WhattimedoesthelasttrainleavethestationofMerlinville?'askedPoirot.

'11.50oneway,and12.17theother,butitismoreprobablethattheyhadamotorwaiting.'

'Ofcourse,'agreedPoirot,lookingsomewhatcrestfallen.

'Indeed, that might be one way of tracing them,' continued the magistrate, brightening. 'A motor
containingtwoforeignersisquitelikelytohavebeennoticed.Thatisanexcellentpoint,MonsieurBex.'

Hesmiledtohimself,andthen,becominggraveoncemore,hesaidtoMrsRenauld:

'Thereisanotherquestion.Doyouknowanyoneofthenameof"Duveen"?'

'Duveen?'MrsRenauldrepeatedthoughtfully.'No,forthemoment,IcannotsayIdo.'

'Youhaveneverheardyourhusbandmentionanyoneofthatname.'

'Never.'

'DoyouknowanyonewhoseChristiannameisBella?'

HewatchedMrsRenauldnarrowlyashespoke,seekingtosurpriseanysignsofangerorconsciousness,
butshemerelyshookherheadinquiteanaturalmanner.Hecontinuedhisquestions.

'Areyouawarethatyourhusbandhadavisitorlastnight?'

Nowhesawtheredmountslightlyinhercheeks,butsherepliedcomposedly:

'No,whowasthat?'

'Alady.'

'Indeed?'

But for the moment the magistrate was content to say no more. It seemed unlikely that Madame
Daubreuilhadanyconnectionwiththecrime,andhewasanxiousnottoupsetMrsRenauldmorethan
necessary.

He made a sign to the commissary, and the latter replied with a nod. Then rising, he went across the
room, and returned with the glass jar we had seen in the outhouse in his hand. From this he took the
dagger.

'Madame,'hesaidgently,'doyourecognizethis?'

Shegavealittlecry.

'Yes,thatismylittledagger.'Thenshesawthestainedpoint,andshedrewback,hereyeswideningwith
horror.

'Isthat-blood?'

'Yes,madame.Yourhusbandwaskilledwiththisweapon.'

Heremovedithastilyfromsight.'Youarequitesureaboutitbeingtheonethatwasonyourdressing-
tablelastnight?'

'Oh, yes. It was a present from my son. He was in the Air Force during the War. He gave his age as
olderthanitwas.'Therewasatouchoftheproudmotherinhervoice.'Thiswasmadefromastreamline
aeroplanewire,andwasgiventomebymysonasasouveniroftheWar.'

'I see, madame. That brings us to another matter. Your son, where is he now? It is necessary that he
shouldbetelegraphedtowithoutdelay.'

'Jack?HeisonhiswaytoBuenosAyres.'

'What?'

'Yes.Myhusbandtelegraphedtohimyesterday.HehadsenthimonbusinesstoParis,butyesterdayhe
discoveredthatitwouldbenecessaryforhimtoproceedwithoutdelaytoSouthAmerica.Therewasa
boatleavingCherbourgforBuenosAyreslastnight,andhewiredhimtocatchit.'

'HaveyouanyknowledgeofwhatthebusinessinBuenosAyreswas?'

'No,monsieur,Iknownothingofitsnature,butBuenosAyresisnotmyson'sfinaldestination.Hewas
goingover-landfromtheretoSantiago.'

And,inunison,themagistrateandthecommissaryexclaimed:

'Santiago!AgainSantiago!'

Itwasatthismoment,whenwewereallstunnedbythementionofthatword,thatPoirotapproached
MrsRenauld.Hehadbeenstandingbythewindowlikeamanlostinadream,andIdoubtifhehad
fullytakeninwhathadpassed.Hepausedbythelady'ssidewithabow.

'Pardon,madame,butmayIexamineyourwrists?'

Thoughslightlysurprisedattherequest,MrsRenauldheldthemouttohim.Roundeachofthemwasa
cruel red mark where the cords had bitten into the flesh. As he examined them, I fancied that a
momentaryflickerofexcitementIhadseeninhiseyesdisappeared.

'Theymustcauseyougreatpain,'hesaid,andoncemorehelookedpuzzled.

Butthemagistratewasspeakingexcitedly.

'Young Monsieur Renauld must be communicated with at once by wireless. It is vital that we should
knowanythinghecantellusaboutthistriptoSantiago.'Hehesitated.'Ihopedhemighthavebeennear
athand,sothatwecouldhavesavedyoupain,madame.'Hepaused.

'Youmean,'shesaidinalowvoice,'theidentificationofmyhusband'sbody?'

Themagistratebowedhishead.

'Iamastrongwoman,monsieur.Icanbearallthatisrequiredofme.Iamready-now.'

'Oh,tomorrowwillbequitesoonenough,Iassureyou-'

'Iprefertogetitover,'shesaidinalowtone,aspasmofpaincrossingherface.'Ifyouwillbesogood
astogivemeyourarmsdoctor?'

Thedoctorhastenedforward,acloakwasthrownoverMrsRenauld'sshoulders,andaslowprocession
wentdownthestairs.M.Boxhurriedonaheadtoopenthedooroftheshed.InaminuteortwoMrs
Renauldappearedinthedoorway.Shewasverypale,butresolute.Sheraisedherhandtoherface.

'Amoment,messieurs,whileIsteelmyself.'

Shetookherhandawayandlookeddownatthedeadman.Thenthemarvellousself-controlwhichhad
upheldhersofardesertedher.

'Paul!'shecried.'Husband!Oh,God!'Andpitchingforwardshefellunconscioustotheground.

InstantlyPoirotwasbesideher,heraisedthelidofhereye,feltherpulse.Whenhehadsatisfiedhimself
thatshehadreallyfainted,hedrewaside.Hecaughtmebythearm.

'Iamanimbecile,myfriend!Ifevertherewasloveandgriefinawoman'svoice,Ihearditthen.My
littleideawasallwrong.Ehbien!Imuststartagain!'

Chapter6

THESCENEOFTHECRIME

Between them, the doctor and M. Hautet carried the unconscious woman into the house. The
commissarylookedafterthem,shakinghishead.

'Pauvre femme,' he murmured to himself. 'The shock was too much for her. Well, well, we can do
nothing.Now,MonsieurPoirot,shallwevisittheplacewherethecrimewascommitted?'

'Ifyouplease,MonsieurBex.'

Wepassedthroughthehouse,andoutbythefrontdoor.Poirothadlookedupatthestaircaseinpassing,
andshookhisheadinadissatisfiedmanner.

'Itistomeincrediblethattheservantsheardnothing.Thecreakingofthatstaircase,withthreepeople
descendingit,wouldawakenthedead!'

'Itwasthemiddleofthenight,remember.Theyweresoundasleepbythen.'

ButPoirotcontinuedtoshakehisheadasthoughnotfullyacceptingtheexplanation.Onthesweepof
thedrivehepaused,lookingupatthehouse.

'Whatmovedtheminthefirstplacetotryifthefrontdoorwereopen?Itwasamostunlikelythingthat

itshouldbe.Itwasfarmoreprobablethattheyshouldatoncetrytoforceawindow.'

'Butallthewindowsonthegroundfloorarebarredwithironshutters,'objectedthecommissary.

Poirotpointedtoawindowonthefirstfloor.

'Thatisthewindowofthebedroomwehavejustcomefrom,isitnot?Andsee-thereisatreebywhich
itwouldbetheeasiestthingintheworldtomount.'

'Possibly,'admittedtheother.'Buttheycouldnothavedonesowithoutleavingfootprintsintheflower-
bed.'

Isawthejusticeofhiswords.Thereweretwolargeovalflower-bedsplantedwithscarletgeraniums,
oneeachsideofthestepsleadinguptothefrontdoor.Thetreeinquestionhaditsrootsactuallyatthe
backofthebeditself,anditwouldhavebeenimpossibletoreachitwithoutsteppingonthebed.

'You see,' continued the commissary, 'owing to the dry weather no prints would show on the drive or
paths;but,onthesoftmouldoftheflower-bed,itwouldhavebeenverydifferentaffair.'

Poirotwentclosetothebedandstudieditattentively.AsBexhadsaid,themouldwasperfectlysmooth.
Therewasnotanindentationonitanywhere.

Poirot nodded, as though convinced, and we turned away; but he suddenly darted off and began
examiningtheotherflower-bed.

'MonsieurBex!'hecalled.'Seehere.Hereareplentyoftracesforyou.'

Thecommissaryjoinedhim-andsmiled.

'MydearMonsieurPoirot,thosearewithoutdoubtthefootprintsofthegardener'slargehobnailedboots.
Inanycase,itwouldhavenoimportance,sincethissidewehavenotree,andconsequentlynomeansof
gainingaccesstotheupperstorey.'

'True,'saidPoirot,evidentlycrestfallen.'Soyouthinkthesefootprintsareofnoimportance?'

'Nottheleastintheworld.'

Thentomyutterastonishment,Poirotpronouncedthesewords:

'Idonotagreewithyou.Ihavealittleideathatthesefootprintsarethemostimportantthingswehave
seenyet.'

M.Bexsaidnothing,merelyshruggedhisshoulders.Hewasfartoocourteoustoutterhisrealopinion.

'Shallweproceed?'heasked,instead.

'Certainly.Icaninvestigatethismatterofthefootprintslater,'saidPoirotcheerfully.

Instead of following the drive down to the gate, M. Bex turned up a path that branched off at right
angles.Itled,upaslightincline,roundtotherightofthehouse,andwasborderedoneithersidebya
kindofshrubbery.Suddenlyitemergedintoalittleclearingfromwhichoneobtainedaviewofthesea.
Aseathadbeenplacedhere,andnotfarfromitwasaratherramshackleshed.Afewstepsfartheron,a
neat line of small bushes marked the boundary of the Villa grounds. M. Bex pushed his way through
these,andwefoundourselvesonawidestretchofopendowns.Ilookedround,andsawsomethingthat
filledmewithastonishment.

'Why,thisisaGolfCourse,'Icried.

Bexnodded.

'The links are not completed yet,' he explained. 'It is hoped to be able to open them some time next
month.Itwassomeofthemenworkingonthemwhodiscoveredthebodyearlythismorning.'

Igaveagasp.Alittletomyleft,whereforthemomentIhadoverlookedit,wasalongnarrowpitand
byit,facedownwards,wasthebodyofaman!Foramoment,myheartgaveaterribleleap,andIhada
wildfancythatthetragedyhadbeenduplicated.Butthecommissarydispelledmyillusionbymoving
forwardwithasharpexclamationofannoyance:

'Whathavemypolicebeenabout?Theyhadstrictorderstoallownooneneartheplacewithoutproper
credentials!'

Themanonthegroundturnedhisheadoverhisshoulder.

'ButIhavepropercredentials,'heremarkedandroseslowlytohisfeet.

'My dear Monsieur Giraud,' cried the commissary. 'I had no idea that you had arrived, even. The
examiningmagistratehasbeenawaitingyouwiththeutmostimpatience.'

Ashespoke,Iwasscanningthenewcomerwiththekeenestcuriosity.Thefamousdetectivefromthe
ParisSûretéwasfamiliartomebynameandIwasextremelyinterestedtoseehimintheflesh.Hewas
very tall, perhaps about thirty years of age, with auburn hair and moustache, and a military carriage.
There was a trace of arrogance in his manner which showed that he was fully alive to his own
importance. Bex introduced us, presenting Poirot as a colleague. A flicker of interest came into the
detective'seye.

'Iknowyoubyname,MonsieurPoirot,'hesaid.'Youcutquiteafigureintheolddays,didn'tyou?But
methodsareverydifferentnow.'

'Crimes,though,areverymuchthesame,'remarkedPoirotgently.

IsawatoncethatGiraudwaspreparedtobehostile.Heresentedtheotherbeingassociatedwithhim,
and I felt that if he came across any clue of importance he would be more than likely to keep it to
himself.

'Theexaminingmagistrate-'beganBexagain.

ButGiraudinterruptedrudely:

'Afigfortheexaminingmagistrate!Thelightistheimportantthing.Forallpracticalpurposesitwillbe
goneinanotherhalfhourorso.Iknowallaboutthecase,andthepeopleatthehousewilldoverywell
untiltomorrow;but,ifwe'regoingtofindacluetothemurderers,hereisthespotweshallfindit.Isit
yourpolicewhohavebeentramplingallovertheplace?Ithoughttheyknewbetternowadays.'

'Assuredlytheydo.Themarksyoucomplainofweremadebytheworkmenwhodiscoveredthebody.'

Theothergrunteddisgustedly.

'Icanseethetrackswherethethreeofthemcamethroughthehedge-buttheywerecunning.Youcan
justrecognizethecentrefoot-marksasthoseofMonsieurRenauld,butthoseoneithersidehavebeen
carefullyobliterated.Notthattherewouldreallybemuchtoseeanywayonthishardground,butthey
weren'ttakinganychances.'

'Theexternalsign,'saidPoirot.'Thatiswhatyouseek,eh?'

Theotherdetectivestared.

'Ofcourse.'

AveryfaintsmilecametoPoirot'slips.Heseemedabouttospeak,butcheckedhimself.Hebentdown
towhereaspadewaslying.

'That'swhatthegravewasdugwith,rightenough,'saidGiraud.'Butyou'llgetnothingfromit.Itwas
Renauld's own spade, and the man who used it wore gloves. Here they are.' He gesticulated with his
foottowheretwosoil-stainedgloveswerelying.'Andthey'reRenauld'stoo-oratleasthisgardener's.I
tell you, the men who planned out this crime were taking no chances. The man was stabbed with his
owndagger,andwouldhavebeenburiedwithhisownspade.Theycountedonleavingnotraces!But
I'llbeatthem.There'salwayssomething!AndImeantofindit.'

But Poirot was now apparently interested in something else, a short, discoloured piece of lead-piping
whichlaybesidethespade.Hetoucheditdelicatelywithhisfinger.

'Anddoesthis,too,belongtothemurderedman?'heasked,andIthoughtIdetectedasubtleflavourof
ironyinthequestion.

Giraudshruggedhisshoulderstoindicatethatheneitherknewnorcared.

'Mayhavebeenlyingaroundhereforweeks.Anyway,itdoesn'tinterestme.'

'I,onthecontrary,finditveryinteresting,'saidPoirotsuavely.

I guessed that he was merely bent on annoying the Paris detective and if so, he succeeded. The other

walkedawayrudelyremarkingthathehadnotimetowaste,andbendingdownheresumedhisminute
searchoftheground.

Meanwhile, Poirot, as though struck by a sudden idea, stepped back over the boundary, and tried the
doorofthelittleshed.

'That's locked,' said Giraud over his shoulder. 'But it's only a place where the gardener keeps his
rubbish.Thespadedidn'tcomefromthere,butfromthetool-shedupbythehouse.'

'Marvellous,'murmuredM.Bexecstaticallytome.'Hehasbeenherebuthalfanhour,andhealready
knowseverything!Whataman!UndoubtedlyGiraudisthegreatestdetectivealivetoday!'

AlthoughIdislikedthedetectiveheartily,Ineverthelesswassecretlyimpressed.Efficiencyseemedto
radiatefromtheman.Icouldnothelpfeelingthat,sofar,Poirothadnotgreatlydistinguishedhimself,
and it vexed me. He seemed to be directing his attention to all sorts of silly puerile points that had
nothingtodowiththecase.Indeed,atthisjuncture,hesuddenlyasked:

'Monsieur Bex, tell me, I pray you, the meaning of this white-washed line that extends all round the
grave.Isitadeviceofthepolice?'

'No,MonsieurPoirot,itisanaffairofthegolfcourse.Itshowsthatthereisheretobea"bunkair",as
youcallit.'

'Abunkair?'Poirotturnedtome.'Thatistheirregularholefilledwithsandandabankatonesideisit
not?'

Iconcurred.

'MonsieurRenauld,withoutdoubtheplayedthegolf?'

'Yes, he was a keen golfer. It's mainly owing to him, and to his large subscriptions, that this work is
beingcarriedforward.Heevenhadasayinthedesigningofit.'

Poirotnoddedthoughtfully.Thenheremarked:

'Itwasnotaverygoodchoicetheymade-foraspottoburythebody?Whenthemenbegantodigup
theground,allwouldhavebeendiscovered.'

'Exactly,' cried Giraud triumphantly. 'And that proves that they were strangers to the place. It's an
excellentpieceofindirectevidence.'

'Yes,'saidPoirotdoubtfully.'Noonewhoknewwouldburyabodythere-unlesstheywantedittobe
discovered.Andthatisclearlyabsurd,isitnot?'

Girauddidnoteventroubletoreply.

'Yes,'saidPoirot,inasomewhatdissatisfiedvoice.'Yesundoubtedly-absurd!'

Chapter7

THEMYSTERIOUSMADAMEDAUBREUIL

Asweretracedourstepstothehouse,M.Bexexcusedhimselfforleavingus,explainingthathemust
immediately acquaint the examining magistrate with the fact of Giraud's arrival. Giraud himself had
been obviously delighted when Poirot declared that he had seen all he wanted. The last thing we
observed,asweleftthespot,wasGiraud,crawlingaboutonallfours,withathoroughnessinhissearch
that I could not but admire. Poirot guessed my thoughts, for as soon as we were alone he remarked
ironically:

'Atlastyouhaveseenthedetectiveyouadmire-thehumanfoxhound!Isitnotso,myfriend?'

'Atanyrate,he'sdoingsomething,'Isaid,withasperity.'Ifthere'sanythingtofindhe'llfindit.Nowyou
-'

'Ehbien!Ialsohavefoundsomething!Apieceoflead-piping.'

'Nonsense,Poirot.Youknowverywellthat'sgotnothingtodowithit.Imeantlittlethings-tracesthat
mayleadusinfalliblytothemurderers.'

'Monami,aclueoftwofeetlongiseverybitasvaluableasonemeasuringtwomillimeters!Butitisthe
romantic idea that all important clues must be infinitesimal. As to the piece of lead-piping having
nothingtodowiththecrime,yousaythatbecauseGiraudtoldyouso.No-'asIwasabouttointerpose
a question - 'we will say no more. Leave Giraud to his search, and me to my ideas. The case seems

straightforward enough - and yet - and yet, mon ami, I am not satisfied! And do you know why?
Becauseofthewrist-watchthatistwohoursfast.Andthenthereareseveralcuriouslittlepointsthatdo
not seem to fit in. For instance, if the object of the murderers was revenge, why did they not stab
Renauldinhissleepandhavedonewithit?'

'Theywantedthe"secret",'Iremindedhim.

Poirotbrushedaspeckofdustfromhissleevewithadissatisfiedair.

'Well,whereisthis"secret"?Presumablysomedistanceaway,sincetheywishhimtodresshimself.Yet
heisfoundmurderedcloseathand,almostwithinear-shotofthehouse.Thenagain,itispurechance
thataweaponsuchasthedaggershouldbelyingaboutcasually,readytohand.'

Hepaused,frowning,andthenwenton:

'Why did the servants hear nothing? Were they drugged? Was there an accomplice, and did that
accompliceseetoitthatthefrontdoorshouldremainopen?Iwonderif-'

Hestoppedabruptly.Wehadreachedthedriveinfrontofthehouse.Suddenlyheturnedtome.

'Myfriend,Iamabouttosurpriseyou-topleaseyou!Ihavetakenyourreproachestoheart!Wewill
examinesomefootprints!'

'Where?'

'Inthatright-handbedyonder.MonsieurBexsaysthattheyarethefoot-marksofthegardener.Letus
seeifthisisso.See,heapproacheswithhiswheelbarrow.'

Indeedanelderlymanwasjustcrossingthedrivewithabarrowfulofseedlings.Poirotcalledtohim,
andhesetdownthebarrowandcamehobblingtowardsus.

'Youaregoingtoaskhimforoneofhisbootstocomparewiththefoot-marks?'Iaskedbreathlessly.My
faith in Poirot revived a little. Since he said the footprints in this right-hand bed were important,
presumablytheywere.

'Exactly,'saidPoirot.

'Butwon'thethinkitveryodd?'

'Hewillnotthinkaboutitatall.'

Wecouldsaynomore,fortheoldmanhadjoinedus.

'Youwantmeforsomething,monsieur?'

'Yes.Youhavebeengardenerherealongtime,haven'tyou?'

'Twenty-fouryears,monsieur.'

'Andyournameis-'

'Auguste,monsieur.'

'Iwasadmiringthesemagnificentgeraniums.Theyaretrulysuperb.Theyhavebeenplantedlong?'

'Sometimesmonsieur.Butofcoursestokeepthebedslookingsmart,onemustkeepbeddingoutafew
newplants,andremovethosethatareover,besideskeepingtheoldbloomswellpickedoff.'

'Youputinsomenewplantsyesterday,didn'tyou?Thoseinthemiddlethereandintheotherbedalso.'

'Monsieurhasasharpeye.Ittakesalwaysadayorsoforthemto"pickup".Yes,Iputtennewplantsin
each bed last night. As monsieur doubtless knows, one should not put in plants when the sun is hot.'
AugustewascharmedwithPoirot'sinterest,andwasquiteinclinedtobegarrulous.

'Thatisasplendidspecimenthere,'saidPoirot,pointing.'MightIperhapshaveacuttingofit?'

'Butcertainly,monsieur.'Theoldfellowsteppedintothebed,andcarefullytookaslipfromtheplant
Poirothadadmired.

Poirotwasprofuseinhisthanks,andAugustedepartedtohisbarrow.

'Yousee?'saidPoirotwithasmile,ashebentoverthebedtoexaminetheindentationofthegardener's
hobnailedboot.'Itisquitesimple.'

'Ididnotrealize-'

'That the foot would be inside the boot? You do not use your excellent mental capacities sufficiently.
Well,whatofthefootmark?'

Iexaminedthebedcarefully.

'Allthebootmarksinthebedweremadebythesameboot,'Isaidatlengthafteracarefulstudy.

'Youthinkso?Ehbien!Iagreewithyou,'saidPoirot.

Heseemedquiteuninterested,andasthoughhewerethinkingofsomethingelse.

'Atanyrate,'Iremarked,'youwillhaveonebeelessinyourbonnetnow.'

'MonDieu!Butwhatanidiom!Whatdoesitmean?'

'WhatImeantwasthatnowyouwillgiveupyourinterestinthesefoot-marks.'

ButtomysurprisePoirotshookhishead.

'No, no, mon ami. At last I am on the right track. I am still in the dark, but, as I hinted just now to
Monsieur Bex, these foot-marks are the most important and interesting things in the case! That poor
Giraud-Ishouldnotbesurprisedifhetooknonoticeofthemwhatever.'

Atthatmomentthefrontdooropened,andM.Hautetandthecommissarycamedownthesteps.

'Ah,MonsieurPoirot,wewerecomingtolookforyou,'saidthemagistrate.'Itisgettinglate,butIwish
topayavisittoMadameDaubreuil.WithoutdoubtshewillbeverymuchupsetbyMonsieurRenauld's
death,andwemaybefortunateenoughtogetacluefromher.Thesecretthathedidnotconfidetohis
wife, it is possible that he may have told it to the woman whose love held him enslaved. We know
whereourSamsonsareweak,don'twe?'

Wesaidnomore,butfellintoline.Poirotwalkedwiththeexaminingmagistrate,andthecommissary
andIfollowedafewpacesbehind.

'There is no doubt that Françoise's story is substantially correct,' he remarked to me in a confidential
tone.'Ihavebeentelephoningheadquarters.Itseemsthatthreetimesinthelastsixweeks-thatistosay
sincethearrivalofMonsieurRenauldatMerlinville-MadameDaubreuilhaspaidalargesuminnotes
intoherbankingaccount.Altogetherthesumtotalstwohundredthousandfrancs!'

'Dearme,'Isaid,considering,'thatmustbesomethinglikefourthousandpounds.'

'Precisely. Yes, there can be no doubt that he was absolutely infatuated. But it remains to be seen
whetherheconfidedhissecrettoher.Theexaminingmagistrateishopeful,butIhardlysharehisviews.'

Duringthisconversationwewerewalkingdownthelanetowardstheforkintheroadwhereourcarhad
haltedearlierintheafternoon,andinanothermomentIrealizedthattheVillaMarguerite,thehomeof
themysteriousMadameDaubreuil,wasthesmallhousefromwhichthebeautifulgirlhademerged.

'She has lived here for many years,' said the commissary nodding his head towards the house. 'Very
quietly,veryunobtrusively.Sheseemstohavenofriendsorrelationsotherthantheacquaintancesshe
hadmadeinMerlinville.Sheneverreferstothepast,nortoherhusband.Onedoesnotevenknowifhe
isaliveordead.Thereisamysteryabouther,youcomprehend.'

Inodded,myinterestgrowing.

'And-thedaughter?'Iventured.

'Atrulybeautifulyounggirl-modest,devout,allthatsheshouldbe.Onepitiesher,for,thoughshemay
know nothing of the past, a man who wants to ask her hand in marriage must necessarily inform
himself,andthen-'Thecommissaryshruggedhisshoulderscynically.

'Butitwouldnotbeherfault,'Icried,withrisingindignation.

'No.Butwhatwillyou?Amanisparticularabouthiswife'santecedents.'

Iwaspreventedfromfurtherargumentbyourarrivalatthedoor.M.Hautetrangthebell.Afewminutes
elapsed,andthenweheardafootfallwithin,andthedoorwasopened.Onthethresholdstoodmyyoung
goddessofthatafternoon.Whenshesawus,thecolourlefthercheeks,leavingherdeathlywhite,and
hereyeswidenedwithapprehension.Therewasnodoubtaboutit,shewasafraid!

'MademoiselleDaubreuil,'saidM.Hautet,sweepingoffhishat,'weregretinfinitelytodisturbyou,but
the exigencies of the Law, you comprehend? My compliments to madame your mother, and will she
havethegoodnesstograntmeafewmoments'interview?'

For a moment the girl stood motionless. Her left hand was pressed to her side, as though to still the
suddenunconquerableagitationofherheart.Butshemasteredherself,andsaidinalowvoice:

'Iwillgoandsee.Pleasecomeinside.'

Sheenteredaroomontheleftofthehall,andweheardthelowmurmurofhervoice.Andthenanother
voice,muchthesameintimbre,butwithaslightlyharderinflectionbehinditsmellowroundness,said:

'Butcertainly.Askthemtoenter.'

InanotherminutewewerefacetofacewiththemysteriousMadameDaubreuil.

Shewasnotnearlysotallasherdaughter,andtheroundedcurvesofherfigurehadallthegraceoffull
maturity.Herhair,againunlikeherdaughter's,wasdark,andpartedinthemiddleintheMadonnastyle.
Hereyes,halfhiddenbythedroopinglids,wereblue.Thoughverywellpreserved,shewascertainlyno
longeryoung,buthercharmwasofthequalitywhichisindependentofage.

'Youwishedtoseeme,monsieur?'sheasked.

'Yes, madame.' M. Hautet cleared his throat. 'I am investigating the death of Monsieur Renauld. You
haveheardofit,nodoubt?'

Shebowedherheadwithoutspeaking.Herexpressiondidnotchange.

'Wecametoaskyouwhetheryoucan-er-throwanylightuponthecircumstancessurroundingit?'

'I?'Thesurpriseofhertonewasexcellent.

'Yes,madame.WehavereasontobelievethatyouwereinthehabitofvisitingthedeadmanathisVilla
intheevenings.Isthatso?'

Thecolourroseinthelady'spalecheeks,butsherepliedquietly:

'Idenyyourrighttoaskmesuchaquestion!'

'Madame,weareinvestigatingamurder.'

'Well,whatofit?Ihadnothingtodowiththemurder!'

'Madame,wedonotsaythatforamoment.Butyouknewthedeadmanwell.Didheeverconfidein
youastoanydangerthatthreatenedhim?'

'Never.'

'DidheevermentionhislifeinSantiago,andanyenemieshemayhavemadethere?'

'No.'

'Thenyoucangiveusnohelpatall?'

'Ifearnot.Ireallydonotseewhyyoushouldcometome.Cannothiswifetellyouwhatyouwantto
know?'Hervoiceheldaslenderinflectionofirony.

'MrsRenauldhastoldusallshecan.'

'Ah!'saidMadameDaubreuil.'Iwonder-'

'Youwonderwhat,madame?'

'Nothing.'

Theexaminingmagistratelookedather.Hewasawarethathewasfightingaduel,andthathehadno
meanantagonist.

'YoupersistinyourstatementthatMonsieurRenauldconfidednothingtoyou?'

'Whyshouldyouthinkitlikelythatheshouldconfideinme?'

'Because,madame,'saidM.Hautet,withcalculatedbrutality,'amantellstohismistresswhathedoes

notalwaystelltohiswife.'

'Ah!'Shesprangforward.Hereyesflashedfire.'Monsieur,youinsultme!Andbeforemydaughter!I
cantellyounothing.Havethegoodnesstoleavemyhouse!'

Thehonoursundoubtedlyrestedwiththelady.WelefttheVillaMargueritelikeashame-facedpackof
schoolboys. The magistrate muttered angry ejaculations to himself. Poirot seemed lost in thought.
Suddenlyhecameoutofhisreveriewithastart,andinquiredofM.Hautetiftherewasagoodhotel
nearathand.

'There is a small place, the Hôtel des Bains, on this side of the town. A few hundred yards down the
road.Itwillbehandyforyourinvestigations.Weshallseeyouinthemorning,then,Ipresume?'

'Yes,Ithankyou,MonsieurHautet.'

With mutual civilities we parted company, Poirot and I going towards Merlinville, and the others
returningtotheVillaGeneviève.

'The French police system is very marvellous,' said Poirot, looking after them. 'The information they
possess about everyone's life, down to the most commonplace detail, is extraordinary. Though he has
onlybeenherealittleoversixweeks,theyareperfectlywellacquaintedwithMonsieurRenauld'stastes
andpursuits,andatamoment'snoticetheycanproduceinformationastoMadameDaubreuil'sbanking
account,andthesumsthathavelatelybeenpaidin!Undoubtedlythedossierisagreatinstitution.But
whatisthat?'Heturnedsharply.

Afigurewasrunninghatlessdowntheroadafterus.ItwasMartheDaubreuil.

'Ibegyourpardon,'shecriedbreathlessly,asshereachedus.'I-Ishouldnotdothis,Iknow.Youmust
not tell my mother. But is it true, what the people say, that Monsieur Renauld called in a detective
beforehedied,and-andthatyouarehe?'

'Yes,mademoiselle,'saidPoirotgently.'Itisquitetrue.Buthowdidyoulearnit?'

'FrançoisetoldourAmélie,'explainedMarthewithablush.

Poirotmadeagrimace.

'Thesecrecy,itisimpossibleinanaffairofthiskind!Notthatitmatters.Well,mademoiselle,whatisit
youwanttoknow?'

Thegifthesitated.Sheseemedlonging,yetfearing,tospeak.Atlast,almostinawhisper,sheasked:'Is
-anyonesuspected?'

Poiroteyedherkeenly.

Thenherepliedevasively:

'Suspicionisintheairatpresent,mademoiselle.'

'Yes,Iknow-but-anyoneinparticular?'

'Whydoyouwanttoknow?'

The girl seemed frightened by the question. All at once Poirot's words about her earlier in the day
occurredtome.The'girlwiththeanxiouseyes'.

'Monsieur Renauld was always very kind to me,' she replied at last. 'It is natural that I should be
interested.'

'Isee,'saidPoirot.'Well,mademoiselle,suspicionatpresentishoveringroundtwopersons.'

'Two?'

Icouldhavesworntherewasanoteofsurpriseandreliefinhervoice.

'Their names are unknown, but they are presumed to be Chileans from Santiago. And now,
mademoiselle,youseewhatcomesofbeingyoungandbeautiful!Ihavebetrayedprofessionalsecrets
foryou!'

Thegirllaughedmerrily,andthen,rathershyly,shethankedhim.

'Imustrunbacknow.Mamawillmissme.'

Andsheturnedandranbackuptheroad,lookinglikeamodernAtalanta.Istaredafterher.

'Monami,'saidPoirot,inhisgentleironicalvoice,'isitthatwearetoremainplantedhereallnight-just
becauseyouhaveseenabeautifulyoungwoman,andyourheadisinawhirl.'

Ilaughedandapologized.

'Butsheisbeautiful,Poirot.Anyonemightbeexcusedforbeingbowledoverbyher.'

ButtomysurprisePoirotshookhisheadveryearnestly.

'Ah,monami,donotsetyourheartonMartheDaubreuil.Sheisnotforyou,thatone!TakeitfromPapa
Poirot!'

'Why,'Icried,'thecommissaryassuredmethatshewasasgoodassheisbeautiful!Aperfectangel!'

'Some of the greatest criminals I have known had the faces of angels,' remarked Poirot cheerfully. 'A
malformationofthegreycellsmaycoincidequiteeasilywiththefaceofaMadonna.'

'Poirot,'Icried,horrified,'youcannotmeanthatyoususpectaninnocentchildlikethis!'

'Ta-ta-ta! Do not excite yourself! I have not said that I suspected her. But you must admit that her
anxietytoknowaboutthecaseissomewhatunusual.'

'ForonceIseefartherthanyoudo,'Isaid.'Heranxietyisnotforherself-butforhermother.'

'Myfriend,'saidPoirot,'asusual,youseenothingatall.MadameDaubreuilisverywellabletolook
after herself without her daughter worrying about her. I admit I was teasing you just now, but all the
sameIrepeatwhatIsaidbefore.Donotsetyourheartonthatgirl!Sheisnotforyou!I,HerculePoirot,
knowit.Sacré!ifonlyIcouldrememberwhereIhadseenthatface?'

'Whatface?'Iasked,surprised.'Thedaughter's?'

'No.Themother's.'

Notingmysurprise,henoddedemphatically.

'Butyes-itisasItellyou.Itwasalongtimeago,whenIwasstillwiththePoliceinBelgium.Ihave
neveractuallyseenthewomanbefore,butIhaveseenherpicture-andinconnectionwithsomecase.I
ratherfancy-"

'Yes?'

'Imaybemistaken,butIratherfancythatitwasamurdercase!'

Chapter8

ANUNEXPECTEDMEETING

WewereupattheVillabetimesnextmorning.Themanonguardatthegatedidnotbarourwaythis
time. Instead, he respectfully saluted us, and we passed on to the house. The maid Léonie was just
comingdownthestairs,andseemednotaversetotheprospectofalittleconversation.

PoirotinquiredafterthehealthofMrsRenauld.Léonieshookherhead.

'Sheisterriblyupset,thepoorlady!Shewilleatnothing-butnothing!Andsheisaspaleasaghost.It
isheart-rendingtoseeher.Ah,itisnotIwhowouldgrievelikethatforamanwhohaddeceivedme
withanotherwoman!'

Poirotnoddedsympathetically.

'What you say is very just, but what will you? The heart of a woman who loves will forgive many
blows.Stillundoubtedlytheremusthavebeenmanyscenesofrecriminationbetweentheminthelast
fewmonths?'

AgainLéonieshookherhead.

'Never,monsieur.NeverhaveIheardmadameutterawordofprotest-ofreproacheven!Shehadthe
temperanddispositionofanangel-quitedifferenttomonsieur.'

'MonsieurRenauldhadnotthetemperofanangel?'

'Far from it. When he enraged himself, the whole house knew of it. The day that he quarrelled with
MonsieurJack-mafoi!,theymighthavebeenheardinthemarketplace,theyshoutedsoloud!'

'Indeed,'saidPoirot.'Andwhendidthisquarreltakeplace?'

'Oh, it was just before Monsieur Jack went to Paris. Almost he missed his train. He came out of the
library,andcaughtuphisbagwhichhehadleftinthehall.Theautomobile,itwasbeingrepaired,and
hehadtorunforthestation.Iwasdustingthesalon,andIsawhimpass,andhisfacewaswhite-white
-withtwoburningspotsofred.Ah,buthewasangry!'

Léoniewasenjoyinghernarrativethoroughly.

'Andthedispute,whatwasitabout?'

'Ah,thatIdonotknow,'confessedLéonie.'Itistruethattheyshouted,buttheirvoicesweresoloudand
high,andtheyspokesofast,thatonlyonewellacquaintedwithEnglishcouldhavecomprehended.But
monsieur,hewaslikeathundercloudallday!Impossibletopleasehim!'

ThesoundofadoorshuttingupstairscutshortLéonie'sloquacity.

'AndFrançoisewhoawaitsme!'sheexclaimed,awakeningtoatardyremembranceofherduties.'That
oldone,shealwaysscolds.'

'Onemoment,mademoiselle.Theexaminingmagistrate,whereishe?'

'Theyhavegoneouttolookattheautomobileinthegarage.Monsieurthecommissaryhadsomeidea
thatitmighthavebeenusedonthenightofthemurder.'

'Quelleidée!'murmuredPoirot,asthegirldisappeared.

'Youwillgooutandjointhem?'

'No,Ishallawaittheirreturninthesalon.Itiscoolthereonthishotmorning.'

Thisplacidwayoftakingthingsdidnotquitecommenditselftome.

'Ifyoudon'tmind-'Isaid,andhesitated.

'Notintheleast.Youwishtoinvestigateonyourownaccount,eh?'

'Well,I'dratherliketohavealookatGiraud,ifhe'sanywhereabout,andseewhathe'supto.'

'Thehumanfoxhound,'murmuredPoirot,asheleanedbackinacomfortablechair,andclosedhiseyes.
'Byallmeans,myfriend.Aurevoir.'

Istrolledoutofthefrontdoor.Itwascertainlyhot.Iwalkedupthepathwehadtakenthedaybefore.I
hadamindtostudythesceneofthecrimemyself.Ididnotgodirectlytothespot,however,butturned
asideintothebushes,soastocomeoutonthelinkssomehundredyardsorsofarthertotheright.The
shrubberyherewasmuchdenser,andIhadquiteastruggletoforcemywaythrough.WhenIemerged
at last on the course, it was quite unexpectedly and with such vigour that I cannoned heavily into a
young lady who had been standing with her back to the plantation. She not unnaturally gave a
suppressed shriek, but I, too, uttered an exclamation of surprise. For it was my friend of the train,
Cinderella!

Thesurprisewasmutual.

'You?'webothexclaimedsimultaneously.

Theyoungladyrecoveredherselffirst.

'Myoldfriend,'sheexclaimed.'Whatareyoudoinghere?'

'Forthematterofthat,whatareyou?'Iretorted.

'When last I saw you, the day before yesterday, you were trotting home to England like a good little
boy.'

'WhenlastIsawyou,'Isaid,'youweretrottinghomewithyoursister,likeagoodlittlegirl.Bytheway,
howisyoursister?'

Aflashofwhiteteethrewardedme.

'Howkindofyoutoask!Mysisteriswell,Ithankyou.'

'Sheisherewithyou?'

'Sheremainedintown,'saidtheminxwithdignity.

'Idon'tbelieveyou'vegotasister,'Ilaughed.'Ifyouhave,hernameisHarris!'

'Doyouremembermine?'sheaskedwithasmile.

'Cinderella.Butyou'regoingtotellmetherealonenow,aren'tyou?'

Sheshookherheadwithawickedlook.

'Notevenwhyyou'rehere?'

'Oh,that!Isupposeyou'veheardofmembersofmyprofession"resting".'

'AtexpensiveFrenchwatering-places?'

'Damncheapifyouknowwheretogo.'

Ieyedherkeenly.

'Still,you'dnointentionofcomingherewhenImetyoutwodaysago?'

'Weallhaveourdisappointments,'saidMissCinderellasententiously.'Therenow,I'vetoldyouquiteas
muchasisgoodforyou.Littleboysshouldnotbeinquisitive.You'venotyettoldmewhatyou'redoing
here?'

'Youremembermytellingyouthatmygreatfriendwasadetective?'

'Yes?'

'Andperhapsyou'veheardaboutthiscrime-attheVillaGeneviève?'

Shestaredatme.Herbreastheaved,andhereyesgrewwideandround.

'Youdon'tmean-thatyou'reinon-'

Inodded.TherewasnodoubtthatIhadscoredheavily.Heremotion,assheregardedme,wasonlytoo
evident. For some few seconds she remained silent, staring at me. Then she nodded her head
emphatically.

'Well,ifthatdoesn'tbeattheband!Totemeround.Iwanttoseeallthehorrors.'

'Whatdoyoumean?'

'WhatIsay.Blesstheboy,didn'tItellyouIdotedoncrimes?I'vebeennosingroundforhours.It'sa
realpieceofluckhappeningonyouthisway.Comeon,showmeallthesights.'

'Butlookhere-waitaminute-Ican't.Nobody'sallowedin.'

'Aren'tyouandyourfriendthebigbugs?'

Iloathtorelinquishmypositionofimportance.

'Whyareyousokeen?'Iaskedweakly.'Andwhatisityouwanttosee?'

'Oh, everything! The place where it happened, and the weapon, and the body, and any fingerprints or
interestingthingslikethat.I'veneverhadachancebeforeofbeingrightinonamurderlikethis.It'lllast
meallmylife.'

I turned away, sickened. What were women coming to nowadays? The girl's ghoulish excitement
nauseatedme.

'Comeoffyourhighhorse,'saidtheladysuddenly.'Anddon'tgiveyourselfairs.Whenyougotcalledto
thisjob,didyouputyournoseintheairandsayitwasanastybusiness,andyouwouldn'tbemixedup
init?'

'No,but-'

'If you'd been here on a holiday, wouldn't you be nosing round just the same as I am? Of course you
would.'

'I'maman.You'reawoman.'

'Your idea of a woman is someone who gets on a chair and shrieks if she sees a mouse. That's all
prehistoric.Butyouwillshowmeround,won'tyou?Yousee,itmightmakeabigdifferencetome.'

'Inwhatway?'

'They'rekeepingallthereportersout.Imightmakeabigscoopwithoneofthepapers.Youdon'tknow
howmuchtheypayforabitofinsidestuff.'

Ihesitated.Sheslippedasmallsofthandintomine.'Please-there'sadear.'

Icapitulated.Secretly,IknewthatIshouldratherenjoythepartofshowman.

We repaired first to the spot where the body had been discovered. A man was on guard there, who
salutedrespectfully,knowingmebysight,andraisednoquestionsastomycompanion.Presumablyhe
regardedherasvouchedforbyme.IexplainedtoCinderellajusthowthediscoveryhadbeenmade,and

she listened attentively, sometimes putting an intelligent question. Then we turned our steps in the
direction of the Villa. I proceeded rather cautiously, for, truth to tell, I was not at all anxious to meet
anyone.Itookthegirlthroughtheshrubberyroundtothebackofthehousewherethesmallshedwas.I
recollectedthatyesterdayevening,afterrelockingthedoor,M.Bexhadleftthekeywiththesergentde
ville, Marchaud, 'In case Monsieur Giraud should require it while we are upstairs.' I thought it quite
likelythattheSûretédetective,afterusingit,hadreturnedittoMarchaudagain.Leavingthegirloutof
sightintheshrubbery,Ienteredthehouse.Marchaudwasondutyoutsidethedoorofthesalon.From
withincamethemurmurofvoices.

'MonsieurdesiresMonsieurHautet?Heiswithin.HeisagaininterrogatingFrançoise.'

'No,'Isaidhastily,'Idon'twanthim.ButIshouldverymuchlikethekeyoftheshedoutsideifitisnot
againstregulations.'

'Butcertainly,monsieur.'Heproducedit.'Hereitis.MonsieurHautetgaveordersthatallfacilitieswere
tobeplacedatyourdisposal.Youwillreturnittomewhenyouhavefinishedoutthere,thatisall.'

'Ofcourse.'

IfeltathrillofsatisfactionasIrealizedthatinMarchaud'seyes,atleast,Irankedequallyinimportance
withPoirot.

Thegirlwaswaitingforme.Shegaveanexclamationofdelightasshesawthekeyinmyhand.

'You'vegotitthen?'

'Ofcourse,'Isaidcoolly.'Allthesame,youknow,whatI'mdoingishighlyirregular.'

'You'vebeenaperfectdarlingandIshan'tforgetit.Comealong.Theycan'tseeusfromthehouse,can
they?'

'Waitaminute.'Iarrestedhereageradvance.'Iwon'tstopyouifyoureallywishtogoin.Butdoyou?
You'veseenthegrave,andthegrounds,andyou'veheardallthedetailsoftheaffair.Isn'tthatenough
foryou?Thisisgoingtobegruesome,youknow,andunpleasant.'

ShelookedatmeforamomentwithanexpressionthatIcouldnotquitefathom.Thenshelaughed.

'I'mforthehorrors,'shesaid.'Comealong.'

Insilencewearrivedatthedooroftheshed.Iopeneditandwepassedin.Iwalkedovertothebody,
and gently pulled down the sheet as Bex had done the preceding afternoon. A little gasping sound
escapedfromthegirl'slips,andIturnedandlookedather.Therewashorroronherfacenow,andthose
debonairhighspiritsofherswerequenchedutterly.Shehadnotchosentolistentomyadvice,andshe
waspunishednowforherdisregardofit.Ifeltsingularlymercilesstowardsher.Sheshouldgothrough
withitnow.Iturnedthecorpseovergently.

'Yousee,'Isaid.'Hewasstabbedintheback.'

Hervoicewasalmostsoundless.'Withwhat?'

Inoddedtowardstheglassjar.

'Thatdagger.'

Suddenlythegirlreeled,andthensankdowninaheap.Isprangtoherassistance.

'Youarefaint.Comeoutofhere.Ithasbeentoomuchforyou.'

'Water,'shemurmured.'Quick.Water.'

I left her, and rushed into the house. Fortunately none of the servants were about and I was able to
secureaglassofwaterunobservedandaddafewdropsofbrandyfromapocketflask.Inafewminutes
Iwasbackagain.ThegirlwaslyingasIhadlefther,butafewsipsofthebrandyandwaterrevivedher
inamarvellousmanner.

'Takemeoutofhere-ohquickly,quickly!'shecried,shuddering.

Supportingherwithmyarm,Iledheroutintotheair,andshepulledthedoortobehindher.Thenshe
drewadeepbreath.

'That'sbetter.Oh,itwashorrible!Whydidyoueverletmegoin?'

I felt this to be so feminine that I could not forbear a smile. Secretly, I was not dissatisfied with her
collapse.ItprovedthatshewasnotquitesocallousasIhadthoughther.Afterallshewaslittlemore
thanachild,andhercuriosityhadprobablybeenoftheunthinkingorder.

'Ididmybesttostopyou,youknow,'Isaidgently.

'Isupposeyoudid.Well,goodbye.'

'Look here, you can't start off like that - all alone. You're not fit for it. I insist on accompanying you
backtoMerlinville.'

'Nonsense.I'mquiteallrightnow.'

'Supposingyoufeltfaintagain?No,Ishallcomewithyou.'

But this she combated with a good deal of energy. In the end, however, I prevailed so far as to be
allowed to accompany her to the outskirts of the town. We retraced our steps over our former route,
passing the grave again, and making a detour on to the road. Where the first straggling line of shops
began,shestoppedandheldoutherhand.

'Goodbye,andthankyoueversomuchforcomingwithme.'

'Areyousureyou'reallrightnow?'

'Quite,thanks.Ihopeyouwon'tgetintoanytroubleovershowingmethings.'

Idisclaimedtheidealightly.

'Well,good-bye.'

'Aurevoir,'Icorrected.'Ifyou'restayinghere,weshallmeetagain.'

Sheflashedasmileatme.

'That'sso.Aurevoir,then.'

'Waitasecond,youhaven'ttoldmeyouraddress.'

'Oh, I'm staying at the Hôtel du Phare. It's a little place, but quite good. Come and look me up
tomorrow.'

'Iwill,'Isaid,withperhapsratherunnecessaryempressement.

Iwatchedheroutofsight,thenturnedandretracedmystepstotheVilla.IrememberedthatIhadnot
relocked the door of the shed. Fortunately no one had noticed the oversight, and turning the key I
removeditandreturnedittothesergentdeville.And,asIdidso,itcameuponmesuddenlythatthough
CinderellahadgivenmeheraddressIstilldidnotknowhername.

Chapter9

M.GIRAUDFINDSSOMECLUES

InthesalonIfoundtheexaminingmagistratebusilyinterrogatingtheoldgardenerAuguste.Poirotand
thecommissary,whowerebothpresent,greetedmerespectivelywithasmileandapolitebow.Islipped
quietly into a seat. M. Hautet was painstaking and meticulous in the extreme, but did not succeed in
elicitinganythingofimportance.

The gardening gloves Auguste admitted to be his. He wore them when handling a certain species of
primula plant which was poisonous to some people. He could not say when he had worn them last.
Certainly he had not missed them. Where were they kept? Sometimes in one place, sometimes in
another. The spade was usually to be found in the small tool-shed. Was it locked? Of course it was
locked.Wherewasthekeykept?Parbleu,itwasinthedoorofcourse.Therewasnothingofvalueto
steal.Whowouldhaveexpectedapartyofbandits,orassassins?SuchthingsdidnothappeninMadame
laVicomtesse'stime.

M. Hautet signifying that he had finished with him, the old man withdrew, grumbling to the last.
RememberingPoirot'sunaccountableinsistenceonthefootprintsintheflower-beds,Iscrutinizedhim
narrowlyashegavehisevidence.Eitherhehadnothingtodowiththecrimeorhewasaconsummate
actor.Suddenlyjustashewasgoingoutofthedooranideastruckme.

'Pardon,MonsieurHautet,'Icried,'butwillyoupermitmetoaskhimonequestion?'

'Butcertainlymonsieur.'

Thusencouraged,IturnedtoAuguste.

'Wheredoyoukeepyourboots?'

'Onmyfeet,'growledtheoldman.'Whereelse?'

'Butwhenyougotobedatnight?'

'Undermybed.'

'Butwhocleansthem?'

'Nobody.Whyshouldtheybecleaned?IsitthatIpromenademyselfonthefrontlikeayoungman?On
SundayIweartheSundayboots,butotherwise-'Heshruggedhisshoulders.

Ishookmyhead,discouraged.

'Well,well,'saidthemagistrate,'wedonotadvanceverymuch.Undoubtedlyweareheldupuntilwe
getthereturncablefromSantiago.HasanyoneseenGiraud?Inveritythatonelackspoliteness!Ihavea
verygoodmindtosendforhimand-'

'Youwillnothavetosendfar.'

Thequietvoicestartledus.Giraudwasstandingoutsidelookinginthroughtheopenwindow.

Heleaptlightlyintotheroomandadvancedtothetable.

'HereIam,atyourservice.Acceptmyexcusesfornotpresentingmyselfsooner.'

'Notatall-notatall!'saidthemagistrate,ratherconfused.

'Of course I am only a detective,' continued the other. 'I know nothing of interrogatories. Were I
conductingone,Ishouldbeinclinedtodosowithoutanopenwindow.Anyonestandingoutsidecanso
easilyhearallthatpasses.Butnomatter.'

M. Hautet flushed angrily. There was evidently going to be no love lost between the examining
magistrateandthedetectiveinchargeofthecase.Theyhadtakenfoulofeachotheratthestart.Perhaps
inanyeventitwouldhavebeenmuchthesame.ToGiraud,allexaminingmagistrateswerefools,andto
M.Hautet,whotookhimselfseriously,thecasualmanneroftheParisdetectivecouldnotfailtogive
offence.

'Ehbien,MonsieurGiraud,'saidthemagistraterathersharply.'Withoutdoubtyouhavebeenemploying
yourtimetoamarvel!Youhavethenamesoftheassassinsforus,haveyounot?Andalsotheprecise
spotwheretheyfindthemselvesnow?'

Unmovedbythisirony,M.Giraudreplied:

'Iknowatleastwheretheyhavecomefrom.'

Giraudtooktwosmallobjectsfromhispocketandlaidthemdownonthetable.Wecrowdedround.The
objects were very simple ones: the stub of a cigarette and an unlighted match. The detective wheeled
roundonPoirot.

'Whatdoyouseethere?'heasked.

Therewassomethingalmostbrutalinhistone.Itmademycheeksflush.ButPoirotremainedunmoved.
Heshruggedhisshoulders.

'Acigaretteendandamatch.'

'Andwhatdoesthattellyou?'

Poirotspreadouthishands.

'Ittellsme-nothing.'

'Ah!'saidGiraud,inasatisfiedvoice.'Youhaven'tmadeastudyofthesethings.That'snotanordinary
match - not in this country at least. It's common enough in South America. Luckily it's unlighted. I
mightn't have recognized it otherwise. Evidently one of the men threw away his cigarette and lit
another,spillingonematchoutoftheboxashedidso.'

'Andtheothermatch?'askedPoirot.

'Whichmatch?'

'Theonehedidlighthiscigarettewith.Youhavefoundthatalso?'

'No.'

'Perhapsyoudidn'tsearchverythoroughly.'

'Not search thoroughly -' For a moment it seemed as though the detective was going to break out
angrily,butwithanefforthecontrolledhimself.'Iseeyouloveajoke,MonsieurPoirot.Butinanycase,
matchornomatch,thecigaretteendwouldbesufficient.ItisaSouthAmericancigarettewithliquorice
pectoralpaper.'

Poirotbowed.Thecommissaryspoke:

'ThecigaretteendandmatchmighthavebelongedtoMonsieurRenauld.Remember,itisonlytwoyears
sincehereturnedfromSouthAmerica.'

'No,'repliedtheotherconfidently.'IhavealreadysearchedamongtheeffectsofMonsieurRenauld.The
cigaretteshesmokedandthematchesheusedarequitedifferent.'

'You do not think it odd,' asked Poirot, 'that these strangers should come unprovided with a weapon,
withgloves,withaspade,andthattheyshouldsoconvenientlyfindallthesethings?'

Giraudsmiledinarathersuperiormanner.

'Undoubtedlyitisstrange.Indeed,withoutthetheorythatIhold,itwouldbeinexplicable.'

'Aha!'saidM.Hautet.'Anaccomplicewithinthehouse!'

'Oroutsideit,'saidGiraud,withapeculiarsmile.'Butsomeonemusthaveadmittedthem.Wecannot
allowthat,byanunparalleledpieceofgoodfortune,theyfoundthedoorajarforthemtowalkin?'

'Thedoorwasopenedforthem;butitcouldjustaseasilybeopenedfromoutside-bysomeonewho
possessedakey.'

'Butwhodoespossessakey?'

Giraudshruggedhisshoulders.

'Asforthat,noonewhopossessesoneisgoingtoadmitthefactifhecanhelpit.Butseveralpeople
might have had one. Monsieur Jack Renauld, the son, for instance. It is true that he is on his way to
SouthAmerica,buthemighthavelostthekeyorhaditstolenfromhim.Thenthereisthegardener-he
has been here many years. One of the younger servants may have a lover. It is easy to take an
impressionofakeyandhaveonecut.Therearemanypossibilities.Thenthereisanotherpersonwho,I
shouldjudge,isexceedinglylikelytohavesuchathing.'

'Whoisthat?'

'MadameDaubreuil,'saidthedetective.

'Eh,bien,'saidthemagistrate.'Soyouhaveheardaboutthat,haveyou?'

'Iheareverything,'saidGiraudimperturbably.

'ThereisonethingIcouldswearyouhavenotheard,'saidHautet,delightedtobeabletoshowsuperior
knowledge, and without more ado he retailed the story of the mysterious visitor the night before. He
alsotouchedonthechequemadeoutto'Duveen',andfinallyhandedGiraudthelettersigned'Bella'.

'Allveryinteresting.Butmytheoryremainsunaffected.'

'Andyourtheoryis?'

'ForthemomentIprefernottosay.Remember,Iamonlyjustbeginningmyinvestigations.'

'Tell me one thing, Monsieur Giraud,' said Poirot suddenly. 'Your theory allows for the door being
opened.Itdoesnotexplainwhyitwasstillopen.Whentheydeparted,woulditnothavebeennatural
forthemtocloseitbehindthem.Ifasergenthadchancedtocomeuptothehouse,asissometimesdone
toseethatalliswell,theymighthavebeendiscoveredandovertakenalmostatonce.'

'Bah!Theyforgotit.Amistake,Igrantyou.'

Then to my surprise Poirot uttered almost the same words as he had uttered to Bex the previous
evening:

'Idonotagreewithyou.Thedoorbeingleftopenwastheresultofeitherdesignornecessity,andany
theorythatdoesnotadmitthatfactisboundtoprovevain.'

We all regarded the little man with a good deal of astonishment. The confession of ignorance drawn
fromhimoverthematchendhad,Ithought,beenboundtohumiliatehim,butherehewasself-satisfied
asever,lyingdownthegreatGiraudwithoutatremor.

Thedetectivetwistedhismoustache,eyeingmyfriendinasomewhatbanteringfashion.

'Youdon'tagreewithme,eh?Well,whatstrikesyouparticularlyaboutthecase?Let'shearyourviews.'

'Onethingpresentsitselftomeasbeingsignificant.Tellme,MonsieurGiraud,doesnothingstrikeyou
asfamiliaraboutthiscase?Istherenothingitremindsyouof?'

'Familiar?Remindsmeof?Ican'tsayoff-hand.Idon'tthinkso,though.'

'Youarewrong,'saidPoirotquietly.'Acrimealmostpreciselysimilarhasbeencommittedbefore.'

'When?Andwhere?'

'Ah,that,unfortunately,Icannotforthemomentremember,butIshalldoso.Ihadhopedyoumightbe
abletoassistme.'

Giraudsnortedincredulously.

'Therehavebeenmanyaffairsofmaskedmen.Icannotrememberthedetailsofthemall.Thecrimesall
resembleeachothermoreorless.'

'There is such a thing as the individual touch.' Poirot suddenly assumed his lecturing manner, and
addressed us collectively. 'I am speaking to you now of the psychology of crime. Monsieur Giraud
knows quite well that each criminal has his particular method, and that the police, when called in to
investigate, say, a case of burglary, can often make a shrewd guess at the offender, simply by the
peculiar methods he has employed. (Japp would tell you the same, Hastings.) Man is an unoriginal
animal.Unoriginalwithinthelawinhisdailyrespectablelife,equallyunoriginaloutsidethelaw.Ifa
mancommitsacrime,anyothercrimehecommitswillresembleitclosely.TheEnglishmurdererwho
disposedofhiswivesinsuccessionbydrowningthemintheirbathswasacaseinpoint.Hadhevaried
hismethods,hemighthaveescapeddetectiontothisday.Butheobeyedthecommondictatesofhuman
nature,arguingthatwhathadoncesucceededwouldsucceedagain,andhepaidthepenaltyofhislack
oforiginality.'

'Andthepointofallthis?'sneeredGiraud.

'That, when you have two crimes precisely similar in design and execution, you find the same brain
behindthemboth.Iamlookingforthatbrain,MonsieurGiraud,andIshallfindit.Herewehaveatrue
clue-apsychologicalclue.Youmayknowallaboutcigarettesandmatchends,MonsieurGiraud,butI,
HerculePoirot,knowthemindofman.'

Giraudremainedsingularlyunimpressed.

'Foryourguidance,'continuedPoirot,'Iwillalsoadviseyouofonefactwhichmightfailtobebrought
toyournotice.ThewristwatchofMadameRenauld,onthedayfollowingthetragedy,hadgainedtwo
hours.'

Giraudstared.

'Perhapsitwasinthehabitofgaining?'

'Asamatteroffact,Iamtolditdid.'

'Verywell,then.'

'Allthesame,twohoursisagooddeal,'saidPoirotsoftly.'Thenthereisthematterofthefootprintsin
theflower-bed.'

Henoddedhisheadtowardstheopenwindow.Giraudtooktwoeagerstrides,andlookedout.

'ButIseenofootprints?'

'No,'saidPoirot,straighteningalittlepileofbooksonatable.'Therearenone.'

For a moment an almost murderous rage obscured Giraud's face. He took two strides towards his
tormentor,butatthatmomentthesalondoorwasopened,andMarchaudannounced:

'MonsieurStonor,thesecretary,hasjustarrivedfromEngland.Mayheenter?'

Chapter10

GABRIELSTONOR

Themanwhonowenteredtheroomwasastrikingfigure.Verytall,withawell-knit,athleticframeand
adeeplybronzedfaceandneck,hedominatedtheassembly.EvenGiraudseemedanaemicbesidehim.
When I knew him better I realized that Gabriel Stonor was quite an unusual personality. English by
birth, he had knocked about all over the world. He had shot big game in Africa, travelled in Korea,
ranchedinCalifornia,andtradedintheSouthSeaislands.

HisunerringeyepickedoutM.Hautet.

'The examining magistrate in charge of the case? Pleased to meet you, sir. This is a terrible business.
How'sMrsRenauld?Isshebearingupfairlywell?Itmusthavebeenanawfulshocktoher.'

'Terrible, terrible,' said M. Hautet. 'Permit me to introduce Monsieur Bex, our commissary of police
MonsieurGiraudoftheSûreté.ThisgentlemanisMonsieurHerculePoirot.MrRenauldsentforhim,
but he arrived too late to do anything to avert the tragedy. A friend of Monsieur Poirot's, Captain
Hastings.'

StonorlookedatPoirotwithsomeinterest.

'Sentforyou,didhe?'

'You did not know, then, that Monsieur Renauld contemplated calling in a detective?' interposed M.
Bex.

'No,Ididn't.Butitdoesn'tsurprisemeabit.'

'Why?'

'Because the old man was rattled. I don't know what it was all about. He didn't confide in me. We
weren'tonthoseterms.Butrattledhewas-andbadly.'

'H'm!'saidM.Hautet.'Butyouhavenonotionofthecause?'

'That'swhatIsaid,sir.'

'Youwillpardonme,MonsieurStonor,butwemustbeginwithafewformalities.Yourname?'

'GabrielStonor.'

'HowlongagowasitthatyoubecamesecretarytoMonsieurRenauld?'

'Abouttwoyearsago,whenhefirstarrivedfromSouthAmerica.Imethimthroughamutualfriend,and
heofferedmethepost.Athunderinggoodbosshewastoo.'

'DidhetalktoyoumuchabouthislifeinSouthAmerica?'

'Yes,agoodbit.'

'DoyouknowifhewaseverinSantiago?'

'Severaltimes,Ibelieve.'

'Henevermentionedanyspecialincidentthatoccurredthere-anythingthatmighthaveprovokedsome
vendettaagainsthim?'

'Never.'

'Didhespeakofanysecretthathehadacquiredwhilesojourningthere?'

'NotthatIcanremember.Butforallthat,therewasamysteryabouthim.I'veneverheardhimspeakof
his boyhood, for instance, or of any incident prior to his arrival in South America. He was a French-
Canadianbybirth,Ibelieve,butI'veneverheardhimspeakofhislifeinCanada.Hecouldshutuplike
aclamifheliked.'

'So, as far as you know, he had no enemies, and you can give us no clue as to any secret to obtain
posessionofwhichhemighthavebeenmurdered?'

'That'sso.'

'MonsieurStonor,haveyoueverheardthenameofDuveeninconnectionwithMonsieurRenauld?'

'Duveen.Duveen.'Hetriedthenameoverthoughtfully.'Idon'tthinkIhave.Andyetitseemsfamiliar.'

'Doyouknowalady,afriendofMonsieurRenauld's,whoseChristiannameisBella?'

AgainMrStonorshookhishead.

'Bella Duveen? Is that the full name? It's curious. I'm sure I know it. But for the moment I can't
rememberinwhatconnection.

Themagistratecoughed.

'You understand, Monsieur Stonor… the case is like this. There must be no reservations. You might,
perhaps,throughafeelingofconsiderationforMadameRenauld-forwhom,Igather,youhaveagreat
esteemandaffection-youmight-infact!'saidM.Hautet,gettingrathertiedupinhissentence,'there
mustabsolutelybenoreservations.'

Stonorstaredathim,adawninglightofcomprehensioninhiseyes.

'Idon'tquitegetyou,'hesaidgently.'WheredoesMrsRenauldcomein?I'veanimmenserespectand
affection for that lady; she's a very wonderful and unusual type, but I don't quite see how my
reservationsorotherwise,couldaffecther?'

'AlotifthisBellaDuveenshouldprovetohavebeensomethingmorethanafriendtoherhusband?'

'Ah!'saidStonor.'Igetyounow.ButI'llbetmybottomdollarthatyou'rewrong.Theoldmanneverso
muchaslookedatapetticoat.Hejustadoredhisownwife.TheywerethemostdevotedcoupleIknow.'

M.Hautetshookhisheadgently.

'Monsieur Stonor. I hold absolute proof - a love-letter written by this Bella to Monsieur Renauld,
accusinghimofhavingtiredofher.Moreover,wehavefurtherproofthat,atthetimeofhisdeath,he
wascarryingonanintriguewithaFrenchwoman,aMadameDaubreuil,whorentstheadjoiningVilla.'

Thesecretary'seyesnarrowed.

'Holdon,sir.You'rebarkingupthewrongtree.IknewPaulRenauld.Whatyou'vejustbeensayingis
plumbimpossible.There'ssomeotherexplanation.'

Themagistrateshruggedhisshoulders.

'Whatotherexplanationcouldtherebe?'

'Whatleadsyoutothinkitwasaloveaffair?'

'MadameDaubreuilwasinthehabitofvisitinghimhereintheevenings.Also,sinceMonsieurRenauld
cametotheVillaGeneviève,MadameDaubreuilhaspaidlargesumsofmoneyintothebankinnotes.

Inall,theamounttotalsfourthousandpoundsofyourEnglishmoney.'

'I guess that's right,' said Stonor quietly. 'I transmitted him those sums in notes at his request. But it
wasn'tanloveaffair.'

'Whatelsecoulditbe?'

'Blackmail,'saidStonorsharply,bringingdownhishandwithaslamonthetable.'That'swhatitwas.'

'Ah!'criedthemagistrate,shakeninspiteofhimself.

'Blackmail,'repeatedStonor.'Theoldmanwasbeingbled-andatagoodratetoo.Fourthousandina
couple of months. Whew! I told you just now there was a mystery about Renauld. Evidently this
MadameDaubreuilknewenoughofittoputthescrewon.'

'Itispossible,'thecommissarycriedexaltedly.'Decidedlyitispossible.'

'Possible?'roaredStonor.'It'scertain.Tellme,haveyouaskedMm.Renauldaboutthislove-affairstunt
ofyours?'

'No,monsieur.Wedidnotwishtooccasionheranydistressifitcouldreasonablybeavoided.'

'Distress?Why,she'dlaughinyourface.Itellyou,sheandRenauldwereacoupleinahundred.'

'Ah, that reminds me of another point,' said M. Hautet. 'Did Monsieur Renauld take you into his
confidenceatallastothedispositionsofhiswill?'

'Iknowallaboutit-tookittothelawyersforhimafterhe'ddrawnitout.Icangiveyouthenameofhis
solicitors if you want to see it. They've got it there. Quite simple. Half in trust to his wife for her
lifetime,theotherhalftohisson.Afewlegacies.Iratherthinkheleftmeathousand.'

'Whenwasthiswilldrawnup?'

'Oh,aboutayearandahalfago.'

'Woulditsurpriseyouverymuch,MonsieurStonor,tohearthatMonsieurRenauldhadmadeanother
will,lessthanafortnightago?'

Stonorwasobviouslyverymuchsurprised.

'I'dnoideaofit.What'sitlike?'

'Thewholeofhisvastfortuneisleftunreservedlytohiswife.Thereisnomentionofhisson.'

MrStonorgaveventtoaprolongedwhistle.

'Icallthatratherroughonthelad!Hismotheradoreshimofcourse,buttotheworldatlargeitlooks
ratherlikeawantofconfidenceonhisfather'spart.Itwillberathergallingtohispride.Still,itallgoes
toprovewhatItoldyou,thatRenauldandhiswifewereonfirst-rateterms.'

'Quiteso,quiteso,'saidM.Hautet.'Itispossibleweshallhavetoreviseourideasonseveralpoints.We
have,ofcourse,cabledtoSantiago,andareexpectingareplyfromthereanyminute.Inallprobability,
everything will then be perfectly clear and straightforward. On the other hand, if your suggestion of
blackmailistrue,MadameDaubreuiloughttobeabletogiveusvaluableinformation.'

Poirotinterjectedaremark:

'MonsieurStonor,theEnglishchauffeur,Masters,hadhebeenlongwithMonsieurRenauld?'

'Overayear.'

'HaveyouanyideawhetherhehaseverbeeninSouthAmerica?'

'I'mquitesurehehasn't.BeforecomingtoM.Renauldhehadbeenformanyyearswithsomepeoplein
GloucestershirewhomIknowwell.'

'Infact,youcananswerforhimasbeingabovesuspicion?'

'Absolutely.'

Poirotseemedsomewhatcrestfallen.

MeanwhilethemagistratehadsummonedMarchaud.

'MycomplimentstoMadameRenauld,andIshouldbegladtospeaktoherforafewminutes.Begher
nottodisturbherself.Iwillwaituponherupstairs.'

Marchaudsalutedanddisappeared.

Wewaitedsomeminutes,andthen,tooursurprise,thedooropened,andMrsRenauld,deathlypalein
herheavymourning,enteredtheroom.

M.Hautetbroughtforwardachair,utteringvigorousprotestations,andshethankedhimwithasmile.
Stonorwasholdingonehandofhersinhiswithaneloquentsympathy.Wordsevidentlyfailedhim.Mrs
RenauldturnedtoM.Hautet.

'Youwishtoaskmesomething?'

'Withyourpermission,madame.IunderstandyourhusbandwasaFrench-Canadianbybirth.Canyou
tellmeanythingofhisyouthorupbringing?'

Sheshookherhead.

'Myhusbandwasalwaysveryreticentabouthimself,monsieur.HecamefromtheNorth-West,Iknow,
but I fancy that he had an unhappy childhood, for he never cared to speak of that time. Our life was
livedentirelyinthepresentandthefuture.'

'Wasthereanymysteryinhispastlife?'

MrsRenauldsmiledalittleandshookherhead.

'NothingsoromanticIamsure,monsieur.'

M.Hautetalsosmiled.

'True-wemustnotpermitourselvestogetmelodramatic.Thereisonethingmore-'Hehesitated.

Stonorbrokeinimpetuously:

'They'vegotanextraordinaryideaintotheirhead,MrsRenauld.TheyactuallyfancythatMrRenauld
wascarryingonanintriguewithaMadameDaubreuilwhoitseems,livesnextdoor.'

ThescarletcolourflamedintoMrsRenauld'scheeks.Sheflungherheadup,thenbitherlip,herface
quivering.StonorstoodlookingatherinastonishmentbutM.Bexleanedforwardandsaidgently:

'Weregrettocauseyoupain,madame,buthaveyouanyreasontobelievethatMadameDaubreuilwas
yourhusband'smistress?'

Withasobofanguish,MrsRenauldburiedherfaceinherhands.Hershouldersheavedconvulsively.At
lastsheliftedherheadandsaidbrokenly:

'Shemayhavebeen.'

Never, in all my life, have I seen anything to equal the blank amazement on Stonor's face. He was
thoroughlytakenaback.

Chapter11

JACKRENAULD

WhatthenextdevelopmentoftheconversationwouldhavebeenIcannotsay,foratthatmomentthe
doorwasthrownopenviolentlyandatallyoungmanstrodeintotheroom.

JustforamomentIhadtheuncannysensationthatthedeadmanhadcometolifeagain.ThenIrealized
thatthisdarkheadwasuntouchedwithgrey,andthat,inpointoffact,itwasamereboywhonowburst
inamonguswithsolittleceremony.HewentstraighttoMrsRenauldwithanimpetuositythattookno
heedofthepresenceofothers.

'Mother!'

'Jack!'Withacryshefoldedhiminherarms.'Mydearest!Butwhatbringsyouhere?Youweretosail
on the Anzora from Cherbourg two days ago?' Then, suddenly recalling to herself the presence of
others,sheturnedwithacertaindignity:'Myson,messieurs.'

'Aha!'saidM.Hautet,acknowledgingtheyoungman'sbow.'SoyoudidnotsailontheAnzora?'

'No, monsieur. As I was about to explain, the Anzora was detained twenty-four hours through engine
trouble. I should have sailed last night instead of the night before, but, happening to buy an evening
paperIsawinitanaccountofthe-theawfultragedythathadbefallenus-'Hisvoicebrokeandthe
tearscameintohiseyes.'Mypoorfather-mypoor,poorfather.'

Staringathimlikeoneinadream,MrsRenauldrepeated:

'Soyoudidnotsail?'Andthen,withagestureofinfiniteweariness,shemurmuredasthoughtoherself:
'Afterall,itdoesnotmatter-now.'

'Sitdown,MonsieurRenauld,Ibegofyou,'saidM.Hautetindicatingachair.'Mysympathyforyouis
profound.Itmusthavebeenaterribleshocktoyoutolearnthenewsasyoudid.However,itismost
fortunatethatyouwerepreventedfromsailing.Iaminhopesthatyoumaybeabletogiveusjustthe
informationweneedtoclearupthismystery.'

'Iamatyourdisposal,monsieur.Askmeanyquestionsyouplease.'

'Tobeginwith,Iunderstandthatthisjourneywasbeingundertakenatyourfather'srequest?'

'Quiteso,monsieur.IreceivedatelegrambiddingmetoproceedwithoutdelaytoBuenosAyres,and
fromthenceovertheAndestoValparaiso,andontoSantiago.'

'Ah!Andtheobjectofthisjourney?'

'Ihavenoidea.'

'What?'

'No.See,hereisthetelegram.'

Themagistratetookitandreaditaloud:

'"Proceed immediately Cherbourg embark Anzora sailing tonight Buenos Ayres. Ultimate destination
Santiago.FurtherinstructionswillawaityouBuenosAyres.Donotfail.Matterisofutmostimportance.
Renauld."Andtherehadbeennopreviouscorrespondenceonthematter?'

JackRenauldshookhishead.

'Thatistheonlyintimationofanykind.Iknew,ofcourse,thatmyfather,havinglivedsolongoutthere,
hadnecessarilymanyinterestsinSouthAmerica.Buthehadnevermadeanysuggestionofsendingme
out.'

'Youhave,ofcourse,beenagooddealinSouthAmerica,M.Renauld?'

'Iwasthereasachild.ButIwaseducatedinEngland,andspentmostofmyholidaysinthatcountry,so,
IreallyknowfarlessofSouthAmericathanmightbesupposed.Yousee,theWarbrokeoutwhenIwas
seventeen.'

'YouservedintheEnglishFlyingCorps,didyounot?'

'Yes,monsieur.'

M. Hautet nodded his head and proceeded with his inquiries along the, by now, well-known lines. In
response, Jack Renauld declared definitely that he knew nothing of any enmity his father might have
incurredinthecityofSantiagoorelsewhereintheSouthAmericancontinent,thathehadnoticedno
changeinhisfather'smanneroflate,andthathehadneverheardhimrefertoasecret.Hehadregarded
themissiontoSouthAmericaasconnectedwithbusinessinterests.

AsM.Hautetpausedforaminute,thequietvoiceofGiraudbrokein:

'Ishouldliketoputafewquestionsofmyown,Monsieurlejuge.'

'Byallmeans,MonsieurGiraud,ifyouwish,'saidthemagistratecoldly.

Giraudedgedhischairalittlenearertothetable.

'Wereyouongoodtermswithyourfather,MonsieurRenauld?'

'CertainlyIwas,'returnedtheladhaughtily.

'Youassertthatpositively?'

'Yes.'

'Nolittledisputes,eh?'

Jackshruggedhisshoulders.'Everyonemayhaveadifferenceofopinionnowandthen.'

'Quiteso,quiteso.But,ifanyoneweretoassertthatyouhadaviolentquarrelwithyourfatheronthe
eveofyourdepartureforParis,thatperson,withoutdoubtwouldbelying?'

I could not but admire the ingenuity of Giraud. His boast, 'I know everything,' had been no idle one.
JackRenauldwasclearlydisconcertedbythequestion.

'We-wedidhaveanargument,'headmitted.

'Ah,anargument!Inthecourseofthatargument,didyouusethisphrase:"WhenyouaredeadIcando
asIplease"?'

'Imayhavedone,'mutteredtheother.'Idon'tknow.'

'Inresponsetothat,didyourfathersay:"ButIamnotdeadyet!"?Towhichyouresponded:"Iwishyou
were!"'

Theboymadenoanswer.Hishandsfiddlednervouslywiththethingsonthetableinfromofhim.

'Imustrequestananswer,please,MonsieurRenauld,'saidGiraudsharply.

Withanangryexclamation,theboysweptaheavypaper-knifetothefloor.

'Whatdoesitmatter?Youmightaswellknow.Yes,Ididquarrelwithmyfather.IdaresayIsaidall
thosethings-IwassoangryIcannotevenrememberwhatIsaid!Iwasfurious-Icouldalmosthave
killedhimatthatmomentthere,makethemostofthat!'Heleantbackinhischair,flushedanddefiant.

Giraudsmiled,then,movinghischairbackalittle,said:

'Thatisall.Youwould,withoutdoubt,prefertocontinuetheinterrogatory,MonsieurHautet.'

'Ah,yes,exactly,'saidM.Hautet.'Andwhatwasthesubjectofyourquarrel?'

'ThatIdeclinetostate.'

M.Hautetsatupinhischair.

'MonsieurRenauld,itisnotpermittedtotriflewiththelaw,'hethundered.'Whatwasthesubjectofthe
quarrel?'

Young Renauld remained silent, his boyish face sullen and overcast. But another voice spoke,
imperturbableandcalm,thevoiceofHerculePoirot:

'Iwillinformyou,ifyoulike,monsieur.'

'Youknow?'

'CertainlyIknow.ThesubjectofthequarrelwasMademoiselleMartheDaubreuil.'

Renauldspranground,startled.Themagistrateleanedforward.

'Isthatso,monsieur?'

JackRenauldbowedhishead.

'Yes,'headmitted.'IloveMademoiselleDaubreuil,andIwishtomarryher.WhenIinformedmyfather
of the fact he flew at once into a violent rage. Naturally, I could not stand hearing the girl I loved
insulted,andI,too,lostmytemper.'

M.HautetlookedacrossatMrsRenauld.

'Youwereawareofthis-attachment,madame?'

'Ifearedit,'sherepliedsimply.

'Mother,'criedtheboy.'Youtoo!Martheisasgoodassheisbeautiful.Whatcanyouhaveagainsther?'

'I have nothing against Mademoiselle Daubreuil in any way. But I should prefer you to marry an
Englishwoman,orifaFrenchwoman,notonewhohasamotherofdoubtfulantecedents!'

Herrancouragainsttheolderwomanshowedplainlyinhervoice,andIcouldwellunderstandthatit
musthavebeenabitterblowtoherwhenheronlysonshowedsignsoffallinginlovewiththedaughter
ofherrival.

MrsRenauldcontinued,addressingthemagistrate:

'Iought,perhaps,tohavespokentomyhusbandonthesubject,butIhopedthatitwasonlyaboyand
girlflirtationwhichwouldblowoverallthequickerifnonoticewastakenofit.Iblamemyselfnowfor
my silence, but my husband, as I told you, had seemed so anxious and careworn, different altogether
fromhisnormalself,thatIwaschieflyconcernednottogivehimanyadditionalworry.'

M.Hautetnodded.

'WhenyouinformedyourfatherofyourintentionstowardsMademoiselleDaubreuil,'heresumed,'he
wassurprised?'

'He seemed completely taken aback. Then he ordered me peremptorily to dismiss any such idea from

mymind.Hewouldnevergivehisconsenttosuchamarriage.Nettled,Idemandedwhathehadagainst
MademoiselleDaubreuil.Tothathecouldgivenosatisfactoryreply,butspokeinslightingtermsofthe
mysterysurroundingthelivesofthemotheranddaughter.IansweredthatIwasmarryingMartheand
notherantecedents,butheshoutedmedownwithaperemptoryrefusaltodiscussthematterinanyway.
Thewholethingmustbegivenup.Theinjusticeandhighhandednessofitallmaddenedme-especially
sincehehimselfalwaysseemedtogooutofhiswaytobeattentivetotheDaubreuilsandwasalways
suggesting that they should be asked to the house. I lost my head, and we quarrelled in earnest. My
fatherremindedmethatIwasentirelydependentonhim,anditmusthavebeeninanswertothatthatI
madetheremarkaboutdoingasIpleasedafterhisdeath-'

Poirotinterruptedwithaquickquestion:

'Youwereaware,then,ofthetermsofyourfather'swill?'

'Iknewthathehadlefthalfhisfortunetome,theotherhalfintrustformymother,tocometomeather
death,'repliedthelad.

'Proceedwithyourstory,'saidthemagistrate.

'After that we shouted at each other in sheer rage, until I suddenly realized that I was in danger of
missingmytraintoParis.Ihadtorunforthestation,stillinawhiteheatoffury.However,oncewell
away,Icalmeddown.IwrotetoMarthetellingherwhathadhappened,andherreplysoothedmestill
further.Shepointedouttomethatwehadonlytobesteadfast,andanyoppositionwasboundtogive
wayatlast.Ouraffectionforeachothermustbetriedandprovedandwhenmyparentsrealizedthatit
wasnolightinfatuationonmyparttheywoulddoubtlessrelenttowardsus.Ofcourse,toher,Ihadnot
dweltonmyfather'sprincipalobjectiontothematch.IsoonsawthatIshoulddomycausenogoodby
violence.'

'Topasstoanothermatter,areyouacquaintedwiththenameofDuveen,MonsieurRenauld?'

'Duveen,'saidJack.'Duveen?'Heleantforwardandslowlypickedupthepaper-knifehehadsweptfrom
thetable.Asheliftedhishead,hiseyesmetthewatchingonesofGiraud.'Duveen?No,Ican'tsayIdo.'

'Willyoureadthisletter,MonsieurRenauld?Andtellmeifyouhaveanyideaastowhothepersonwas
whoaddressedittoyourfather.'

JackRenauldtooktheletterandreaditthrough,thecolourmountinginhisfaceashedidso.

'Addressedtomyfather?'Theemotionandindignationinhistoneswereevident.

'Yes.Wefounditinthepocketofhiscoat.'

'Does-'Hehesitated,throwingthemerestfractionofaglancetowardshismother.

Themagistrateunderstood.

'Asyet-no.Canyougiveusanyclueastothewriter?'

'Ihavenoideawhatsoever.'

M.Hautetsighed.

'Amostmysteriouscase.Ah,well,Isupposewecannowruleouttheletteraltogether.Letmeseewhere
were we? Oh, the weapon. I fear this may give you pain, Monsieur Renauld. I understand it was a
presentfromyoutoyourmother.Verysad-verydistressing-'

Jack Renauld leaned forward. His face, which had flushed during the perusal of the letter, was now
deadlywhite.

'Doyoumean-thatitwaswithanaeroplanewirepaper-cutterthatmyfatherwas-waskilled?Butit's
impossible!Alittlethinglikethat!'

'Alas,MonsieurRenauld,itisonlytootrue!Anideallittletool,Ifear.Sharpandeasytohandle.'

'Whereisit?CanIseeit?Isitstillinthe-thebody?'

'Oh no, it has been removed. You would like to see it? To make sure? It would be as well, perhaps,
thoughmadamehasalreadyidentifiedit.Still-MonsieurBex,mightItroubleyou?'

'Certainly.Iwillfetchitimmediately.'

'Would it not be better to take Monsieur Renauld to the shed?' suggested Giraud smoothly. 'Without
doubthewouldwishtoseehisfather'sbody.'

The boy made a shivering gesture of negation, and the magistrate, always disposed to cross Giraud
wheneverpossible,replied:

'Butno-notatpresent.MonsieurBexwillbesokindastobringittoushere.'

Thecommissarylefttheroom.StonorcrossedtoJackandwrunghimbythehand.Poirothadrisen,and
wasadjustingapairofcandlesticksthatstruckhistrainedeyeasbeingashadeaskew.Themagistrate
was reading the mysterious love-letter through a last time, clinging desperately to his first theory of
jealousyandastabintheback.Suddenlythedoorburstopenandthecommissaryrushedin.

'Monsieurlejuge!Monsieurlejuge!'

'Butyes.Whatisit?'

'Thedagger!Itisgone!'

'What-gone?'

'Vanished.Disappeared.Theglassjarthatcontaineditisempty!'

'What?'Icried.'Impossible.Why,onlythismorningIsaw-'Thewordsdiedonmytongue.

Buttheattentionoftheentireroomwasdivertedtome.

'Whatisthatyousay?'criedthecommissary.'Thismorning?'

'Isawittherethismorning,'Isaidslowly.'Aboutanhourandahalfago,tobeaccurate.'

'Youwenttotheshed,then?Howdidyougetthekey?'

'Iaskedthesergentdevilleforit.'

'Andyouwentthere?Why?'

Ihesitated,butintheendIdecidedthattheonlythingtodowastomakeacleanbreastofit.

'MonsieurHautet,'Isaid,'Ihavecommittedagravefault,forwhichImustcraveyourindulgence.'

'Proceed,monsieur.'

'The fact of the matter is,' I said, wishing myself anywhere else but where I was, 'that I met a young
lady,anacquaintanceofmine.Shedisplayedagreatdesiretoseeeverythingthatwastobeseen,andI-
well,inshort,Itookthekeytoshowherthebody.'

'Ah!' cried the magistrate indignantly. 'But it is a grave fault you have committed there, Captain
Hastings.Itisaltogethermostirregular.Youshouldnothavepermittedyourselfthisfolly.'

'Iknow,'Isaidmeekly.'Nothingthatyoucansaycouldbetoosevere,monsieur.'

'Youdidnotinvitethisladytocomehere?'

'Certainly not. I met her quite by accident. She is an English lady who happens to be staying in
Merlinville,thoughIwasnotawareofthatuntilmyunexpectedmeetingwithher.'

'Well,well,'saidthemagistrate,softening.'Itwasmostirregular,buttheladyiswithoutdoubtyoung
andbeautiful.Whatitistobeyoung!'Andhesighedsentimentally.

Butthecommissary,lessromanticandmorepractical,tookupthetale:

'Butdidyounotre-closeandlockthedoorwhenyoudeparted?'

'That'sjustit,'Isaidslowly.'That'swhatIblamemyselfforsoterribly.Myfriendwasupsetatthesight.
Shenearlyfainted.Igothersomebrandyandwater,andafterwardsinsistedonaccompanyingherback
tothetown.IntheexcitementIforgottore-lockthedoor.IonlydidsowhenIgotbacktotheVilla.'

'Thenfortwentyminutesatleast-'saidthecommissaryslowly.Hestopped.

'Exactly,'Isaid.

'Twentyminutes,'musedthecommissary.

'Itisdeplorable,'saidM.Hautet,hissternnessofmannerreturning.'Withoutprecedent.'

Suddenlyanothervoicespoke.

'Youfinditdeplorable?'askedGiraud.

'CertainlyIdo.'

'Ifinditadmirable!'saidtheotherimperturbably.

Thisunexpectedallyquitebewilderedme.

'Admirable, Monsieur Giraud?' asked the magistrate, studying him cautiously out of the corner of his
eye.

'Precisely.'

'Andwhy?'

'Becauseweknownowthattheassassin,oranaccompliceoftheassassin,hasbeenneartheVillaonly
anhourago.Itwillbestrangeif,withthatknowledge,wedonotshortlylayhandsuponhim.'There
was a note of menace in his voice. He continued: 'He risked a good deal to gain possession of that
dagger.Perhapshefearedthatfingerprintsmightbediscoveredonit.'

PoirotturnedtoBex.

'Yousaidtherewerenone?'

Giraudshruggedhisshoulders.

'Perhapshecouldnotbesure.'

Poirotlookedathim.

'Youarewrong,MonsieurGiraud.Theassassinworegloves.Sohemusthavebeensure.'

'I do not say it was the assassin himself. It may have been an accomplice who was not aware of that
fact.'

Themagistrate'sclerkwasgatheringupthepapersonthetable.M.Hautetaddressedus:

'Ourworkhereisfinished.Perhaps,MonsieurRenauld,youwilllistenwhileyourevidenceisreadover
toyou.Ihavepurposelykeptalltheproceedingsasinformalaspossible.Ihavebeencalledoriginalin
mymethods,butImaintainthatthereismuchtobesaidfororiginality.Thecaseisnowintheclever
handsoftherenownedMonsieurGiraud.Hewillwithoutdoubtdistinguishhimself.Indeed,Iwonder
that he has not already laid his hands upon the murderers! Madame, again let me assure you of my
heartfelt sympathy! Messieurs, I wish you all good day.' And, accompanied by his clerk and the
commissary,hetookhisdeparture.

Poirottuggedoutthatlargeturnipofawatchofhisandobservedthetime.

'Let us return to the hotel for lunch, my friend,' he said. 'And you shall recount to me in full the
indiscretionsofthismorning.Nooneisobservingus.Weneedmakenoadieux.'

Wewentquietlyoutoftheroom.Theexaminingmagistratehadjustdrivenoffinhiscar.Iwasgoing
downthestepswhenPoirot'svoicearrestedme:

'One little moment, my friend.' Dexterously he whipped out his yard measure and proceeded, quite
solemnly, to measure an overcoat hanging in the hall, from the collar to the hem. I had not seen it
hangingtherebefore,andguessedthatitbelongedtoeitherMrStonororJackRenauld.

Then,withalittlesatisfiedgrunt,Poirotreturnedthemeasuretohispocketandfollowedmeoutintothe

openair.

Chapter12

POIROTELUCIDATESCERTAINPOINTS

'Whydidyoumeasurethatovercoat?'Iasked,withsomecuriosity,aswewalkeddownthehotwhite
roadataleisurelypace.

'Parbleu!toseehowlongitwas,'repliedmyfriendimperturbably.

Iwasvexed.Poirot'sincurablehabitofmakingamysteryoutofnothingneverfailedtoirritateme.I
relapsed into silence, and followed a train of thought of my own. Although I had not noticed them
speciallyatthetime,certainwordsMrsRenauldhadaddressedtohersonnowrecurredtome,fraught
withanewsignificance.'Soyoudidnotsail?'shehadsaid,andthenhadadded:'Afterall,itdoesnot
matter-now.'

Whathadshemeantbythat?Thewordswereenigmatical-significant.Wasitpossiblethatsheknew
more than we supposed? She had denied all knowledge of the mysterious mission with which her
husbandwastohaveentrustedhisson.Butwasshereallylessignorantthanshepretended?Couldshe
enlightenusifshechose,andwashersilencepartofacarefullythoughtoutandpreconceivedplan?

ThemoreIthoughtabout,it,themoreIwasconvincedthatIwasright.MrsRenauldknewmorethan
she chose to tell. In her surprise at seeing her son, she had momentarily betrayed herself. I felt
convincedthat she knew,if not theassassins, at least themotive for theassassination. But some very
powerfulconsiderationsmustkeephersilent.

'You think profoundly, my friend,' remarked Poirot, breaking in upon my reflections. 'What is it that
intriguesyouso?'

Itoldhim,sureofmyground,thoughfeelingexpectantthathewouldridiculemysuspicions.Buttomy
surprisehenoddedthoughtfully.

'You are quite right, Hastings. From the beginning I have been sure that she was keeping something
back.AtfirstIsuspectedher,ifnotofinspiring,atleastofconnivingatthecrime.'

'Yoususpectedher?'Icried.

'Butcertainly.Shebenefitsenormously-infact,bythisnewwill,sheistheonlypersontobenefit.So,
fromthestart,shewassingledoutforattention.YoumayhavenoticedthatItookanearlyopportunity
of examining her wrists. I wished to see whether there was any possibility that she had gagged and
boundherself.Bien,Isawatoncethattherewasnofake,thecordshadactuallybeendrawnsotightas
tocutintotheflesh.Thatruledoutthepossibilityofherhavingcommittedthecrimesingle-handed.But
it was still possible for her to have connived at it, or to have been the instigator with an accomplice.
Moreover,thestory,asshetoldit,wassingularlyfamiliartome-themaskedmenthatshecouldnot
recognize,thementionof"thesecret"-Ihadheard,orread,allthesethingsbefore.Anotherlittledetail
confirmedmybeliefthatshewasnotspeakingthetruth.Thewristwatch,Hasting,thewristwatch!'

Againthatwristwatch!Poirotwaseyeingmecuriously.

'Yousee,monami?Youcomprehend?'

'No,' I replied with some ill burnout. 'I neither see nor comprehend. You make all these confounded
mysteriesandit'suselessaskingyoutoexplain.Youalwayslikekeepingsomethingupyoursleeveto
thelastminute.'

'Donotenrageyourself,myfriend,'saidPoirot,withasmile.Iwillexplainifyouwish.Butnotaword
to Giraud, c'est entendu? He treats me as an old one of no importance! We shall see! In common
fairnessIgavehimahint.Ifhedoesnotchoosetoactuponit,thatishisownlookout.'

IassuredPoirotthathecouldrelyuponmydiscretion.

'C'estbien!Letusthenemployourlittlegreycells.Tellme,myfriend,atwhattime,accordingtoyou,
didthetragedytakeplace?'

'Why, at two o'clock or thereabouts,' I said, astonished. 'You remember, Mrs Renauld told us that she
heardtheclockstrikewhilethemenwereintheroom.'

'Exactly,andonthestrengthofthat,you,theexaminingmagistrate,Bex,andeveryoneelse,acceptthe
time without further question. But I, Hercule Poirot, say that Madame Renauld lied. The crime took
placeatleasttwohoursearlier.'

'Butthedoctors-'

'Theydecided,afterexaminationofthebody,thatdeathhadtakenplacebetweentenandsevenhours
previously.Monami,forsomereasonitwasimperativethatthecrimeshouldseemtohavetakenplace
later than it actually did. You have read of a smashed watch or clock recording the exact hour of a
crime?SothatthetimeshouldnotrestonMadameRenauld'stestimonyalone,someonemovedonthe
handsofthatwristwatchtotwoo'clock,andthendasheditviolentlytotheground.But,asisoftenthe
case, they defeated their own object. The glass was smashed, but the mechanism of the watch was
uninjured. It was a most disastrous manoeuvre on their part, for it at once drew my attention to two
points - first, that Madame Renauld was lying; secondly, that there must be some vital reason for the
postponementofthetime.'

'Andwhatreasoncouldtherebe?'

'Ah,thatisthequestion!Therewehavethewholemystery.Asyet,Icannotexplainit.Thereisonlyone
ideathatpresentsitselftomeashavingapossibleconnection.'

'Andthatis?'

'ThelasttrainleftMerlinvilleatseventeenminutespasttwelve.'

Ifolloweditoutslowly.

'So that, the crime apparently taking place some two hours later, anyone leaving by that train would
haveanunimpeachablealibi!'

'Perfect,Hastings!Youhaveit!'

Isprangup.

'Butwemustinquireatthestation!Surelytheycannothavefailedtonoticetwoforeignerswholeftby
thattrain!Wemustgothereatonce!'

'Youthinkso,Hastings?'

'Ofcourse.Letusgotherenow.'

Poirotrestrainedmyardourwithalighttouchuponthearm.

'Gobyallmeansifyouwish,monami-butifyougo,Ishouldnotaskforparticularsoftwoforeigners.'

Istaredandhesaidratherimpatiently:

'La,la,youdonotbelieveallthatrigmarole,doyou?Themaskedmenandalltherestofcettehistoire-
là!'

Hiswordstookmesomuchaback,thatIhardlyknewhowtorespond.Hewentonserenely:

'YouheardmesaytoGiraud,didyounot,thatallthedetailsofthiscrimewerefamiliartome?Ehbien,
thatpresupposesoneoftwothings,eitherthebrainthatplannedthefirstcrimealsoplannedthisone,or
elseanaccountreadoracausecélèbreunconsciouslyremainedinourassassin'smemoryandprompted
thedetails.Ishallbeabletopronouncedefinitelyonthatafter-'Hebrokeoff.

Iwasrevolvingsundrymattersinmymind.

'ButMrRenauld'sletter?ItdistinctlymentionsasecretandSantiago!'

'UndoubtedlytherewasasecretinMonsieurRenauld'slife-therecanbenodoubtofthat.Ontheother
hand,thewordSantiago,tomymind,isaredherring,draggedconstantlyacrossthetracktoputusoff
the scent. It is possible that it was used in the same way on Monsieur Renauld, to keep him from
directinghissuspicionstoaquarternearerathand.Oh,beassuredHastings,thedangerthatthreatened
himwasnotinSantiago,itwasnearathand,inFrance.'

Hespokesogravely,andwithsuchassurance,thatIcouldnotfailtobeconvinced.ButIessayedone
objection:

'Andthematchandcigaretteendfoundnearthebody?Whatofthem?'

AlightofpureenjoymentlitupPoirot'sface.

'Planted!DeliberatelyplantedthereforGiraudoroneofhistribetofind!Ah,heissmart,Giraud,he
candohistricks!Socanagoodretrieverdog.Hecomesinsopleasedwithhimself.Forhourshehas

crawled on his stomach. "See what I have found," he says. And then again to me: "What do you see
here?"Me,Ianswerwithprofoundanddeeptruth,"Nothing."AndGiraud,thegreatGiraud,helaughs,
hethinkstohimself"Oh,heisimbecile,thisoldone!"Butweshallsee...'

Butmymindhadrevertedtothemainfacts.

'Thenallthisstoryofthemaskedmen-'

'Isfalse.'

'Whatreallyhappened?'

Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.

'Onepersoncouldtellus-MadameRenauld.Butshewillnotspeak.Threatsandenmitieswouldnot
moveher.Aremarkablewomanthat,Hastings.IrecognizedassoonasIsawherthatIhadtodealwith
awomanofunusualcharacter.Atfirst,asItoldyou,Iwasinclinedtosuspectherofbeingconcernedin
thecrime.AfterwardsIalteredmyopinion.'

'Whatmadeyoudothat?'

'Herspontaneousandgenuinegriefatthesightofherhusband'sbody.Icouldswearthattheagonyin
thatcryofherswasgenuine.'

'Yes,'Isaidthoughtfully,'onecannotmistakethesethings.'

'Ibegyourpardon,myfriend-onecanalwaysbemistaken.Regardagreatactress,doesnotheracting
ofgriefcarryyouawayandimpressyouwithitsreality?No,howeverstrongmyownimpressionand
belief,IneededotherevidencebeforeIallowedmyselftobesatisfied.Thegreatcriminalcanbeagreat
actor.Ibasemycertaintyinthiscasenotuponmyownimpression,butupontheundeniablefactthat
MadameRenauldactuallyfainted.Iturneduphereye-lidsandfeltherpulse.Therewasnodeception-
theswoonwasgenuine.ThereforeIwassatisfiedthatheranguishwasrealandnotassumed.Besides,a
smalladditionalpointwithoutinterest,itwasunnecessaryforMadameRenauldtoexhibitunrestrained
grief.Shehadhadoneparoxysmonlearningofherhusband'sdeath,andtherewouldbenoneedforher
to simulate another such a violent one on beholding his body. No, Madame Renauld was not her
husband'smurderess.Butwhyhasshelied?Sheliedaboutthewristwatch,sheliedaboutthemasked
men,sheliedaboutathirdthing.Tellme,Hastings,whatisyourexplanationoftheopendoor?'

'Well,'Isaid,ratherembarrassed,'Isupposeitwasanoversight.Theyforgottoshutit.'

Poirotshookhishead,andsighed.

'That is the explanation of Giraud. It does not satisfy me. There is a meaning behind that open door
whichforthemomentIcannotfathom.OnethingIamfairlysureof-theydidnotleavethroughthe
door.Theyleftbythewindow.'

'What?'

'Precisely.'

'Buttherewerenofoot-marksintheflower-bedunderneaththewindow.'

'No-andthereoughttohavebeen.Listen,Hastings.Thegardener,asyouheardhimsay,plantedboth
thosebedstheprecedingafternoon.Intheonethereareplentyofimpressionsofhisbighobnailedboots
-intheother,none!Yousee?Someonehadpassedthatway,someonewho,toobliteratetheirfootprints,
smoothedoverthesurfaceofthebedwitharake.'

'Wheredidtheygetarake?'

'Where they got the spade and the gardening gloves,' said Poirot impatiently. 'There is no difficulty
aboutthat.'

'Whatmakesyouthinkthattheyleftthatwaythough?Surelyitismoreprobablethattheyenteredby
thewindow,andleftbythedoor?'

'Thatispossible,ofcourse.YetIhaveastrongideathattheyleftbythewindow.'

'Ithinkyouarewrong.'

'Perhaps,monami.'

I mused, thinking over the new field of conjecture that Poirot's deductions had opened up to me. I
recalled my wonder at his cryptic allusion to the flower-bed and the wristwatch. His remarks had
seemedsomeaninglessatthemoment,andnow,forthefirsttimeIrealizedhowremarkably,fromafew
slight incidents, he had unravelled much of the mystery that surrounded the case. I paid a belated
homagetomyfriend.

'Inthemeantime,'Isaid,considering,'althoughweknowagreatdealmorethanwedidwearenonearer
tosolvingthemysteryofwhokilledMrRenauld.'

'No,'saidPoirotcheerfully.'Infactweareagreatdealfartheroff.'

ThefactseemedtoaffordhimsuchpeculiarsatisfactionthatIgazedathiminwonder.Hemetmyeye
andsmiled.Suddenlyalightburstuponme.

'Poirot!MrsRenauld!Iseeitnow.Shemustbeshieldingsomebody.'

FromthequietnesswithwhichPoirotreceivedmymark,Icouldseethattheideahadalreadyoccurred
tohim.

'Yes,'hesaidthoughtfully.'Shieldingsomeone-orscreeningsomeone.Oneofthetwo.'

Then,asweenteredourhotelheenjoinedsilenceonmewithagesture.

Chapter13

THEGIRLWITHTHEANXIOUSEYES

We lunched with an excellent appetite. For a while we ate in silence, and then Poirot observed
maliciously:

'Ehbien!Andyourindiscretions!Yourecountthemnot?'

Ifeltmyselfblushing.

'Oh,youmeanthismorning?'Iendeavouredtoadoptatoneofabsolutenonchalance.

ButIwasnomatchforPoirot.Inaveryfewminuteshehadextractedthewholestoryfromme,hiseyes
twinklingashedidso.

'Tien!Astoryofthemostromantic.Whatishername,thischarmingyounglady?'

IhadtoconfessthatIdidnotknow.

'Stillmoreromantic!ThefirstrencontreinthetrainfromParis,thesecondhere.Journeysendinlovers'
meetings,isnotthatthesaying?'

'Don'tbeanass,Poirot.'

'YesterdayitwasMademoiselleDaubreuil,todayitisMademoiselle-Cinderella!Decidedlyyouhave
theheartofaTurk,Hastings!Youshouldestablishaharem!'

'It's all very well to rag me. Mademoiselle Daubreuil is a very beautiful girl, and I do admire her
immensely-Idon'tmindadmittingit.Theother'snothing-Idon'tsupposeIshalleverseeheragain.'

'Youdonotproposetoseetheladyagain?'

Hislastwordswerealmostaquestion,andIwasawareofthesharpnesswithwhichhedartedaglance
atme.Andbeforemyeyes,writtenlargeinlettersoffire,Isawthewords'HôtelduPhare',andIheard
againhervoicesaying,'Comeandlookmeup',andmyownansweringwithempressement'Iwill.'

IansweredPoirotlightlyenough:

'Sheaskedmetolookherup,but,ofcourse,Ishan't.'

'Why"ofcourse"?'

'Well,Idon'twantto.'

'MademoiselleCinderellaisstayingattheHôteld'Angleterreyoutoldme,didyounot?'

'No.HôtelduPhare.'

'True,Iforgot.'

Amoment'smisgivingshotacrossmymind.SurelyIhadnevermentionedanyhoteltoPoirot.Ilooked
acrossathimandfeltreassured.Hewascuttinghisbreadintoneatlittlesquares,completelyabsorbed
inhistask.HemusthavefanciedIhadtoldhimwherethegirlwasstaying.

Wehadcoffeeoutsidefacingthesea.Poirotsmokedoneofhistinycigarettes,andthendrewhiswatch
fromhispocket.

'ThetraintoParisleavesat2.25,'heobserved.'Ishouldbestarting.'

'Paris?'Icried.

'ThatiswhatIsaid,monami.'

'YouaregoingtoParis?Butwhy?'

Herepliedveryseriously:

'TolookforthemurdererofMonsieurRenauld.'

'YouthinkheisinParis?'

'I am quite certain that he is not. Nevertheless, it is there that I must look for him. You do not
understand,butIwillexplainitalltoyouingoodtime.Believeme,thisjourneytoParisisnecessary.I
shall not be away long. In all probability I shall return tomorrow. I do not propose that you should
accompany me. Remain here and keep an eye on Giraud. Also cultivate the society of Monsieur
Renauldfils.'

'Thatremindsme,'Isaid.'Imeanttoaskyouhowyouknewaboutthosetwo?'

'Mon ami - I know human nature. Throw together a boy like young Renauld and a beautiful girl like
MademoiselleMartheandtheresultisalmostinevitable.Then,thequarrel.Itwasmoney,orawoman,
and,rememberingLéonie'sdescriptionofthelad'sanger,Idecidedonthelatter.SoImademyguess-

andIwasright.'

'YoualreadysuspectedthatshelovedyoungRenauld?'

Poirotsmiled.

'Atanyrate,Isawthatanxiouseyes.ThatishowIalwaysthinkofMademoiselleDaubreuil-thegirl
withtheanxiouseyes.'

Hisvoicewassogravethatitimpressedmeuncomfortably.

'Whatdoyoumeanbythat,Poirot?'

'Ifancy,myfriend,thatweshallseebeforeverylong.ButImuststart.'

'Iwillcomeandseeyouoff,'Isaid,rising.

'Youwilldonothingofthesort.Iforbidit.'

HewassoperemptorythatIstaredathiminsurprise.Henoddedemphatically.

'Imeanit,monami.Aurevoir.'

IfeltratheratalooseendafterPoirothadleftme.Istrolleddowntothebeachandwatchedthebathers,
without feeling energetic enough to join them. I rather fancied that Cinderella might be disporting
herselfamongtheminsomewonderfulcostume,butIsawnosignsofher.Istrolledaimlesslyalongthe
sands towards the farther end of the town. It occurred to me that, after all, it would only be decent
feelingonmyparttoinquireafterthegirl.Anditwouldsavetroubleintheend.Thematterwouldthen
befinishedwith.Therewouldbenoneedformetotroubleaboutheranyfurther.ButifIdidnotgoat
all,shemightquitepossiblycomeandlookmeupattheVilla.

Accordingly,Ileftthebeach,andwalkedinland.IsoonfoundtheHôtelduPhare,averyunpretentious
building.

Itwasannoyingintheextremenottoknowthelady'snameand,tosavemydignity,Idecidedtostroll
insideandlookaround.ProbablyIshouldfindherinthelounge.Iwentin,buttherewasnosignofher.
Iwaitedforsometime,tillmyimpatiencegotthebetterofme,Itooktheconciergeasideandslipped
fivefrancsintohishand.

'I wish to see a lady who is staying here. A young English lady, small and dark. I am not sure of her
name.'

Themanshookhisheadandseemedtobesuppressingagrin.

'Thereisnosuchladyasyoudescribestayinghere.'

'Buttheladytoldmeshewasstayinghere.'

'Monsieur must have made a mistake - or it is more likely the lady did, since there has been another
gentlemanhereinquiringforher.'

'Whatisthatyousay?'Icried,surprised.

'Butyes,monsieur.Agentlemanwhodescribedherjustasyouhavedone.'

'Whatwashelike?'

'Hewasasmallgentleman,welldressed,veryneat,veryspotless,themoustacheverystiff,theheadofa
peculiarshape,andtheeyesgreen.'

Poirot!Sothatwaswhyherefusedtoletmeaccompanyhimtothestation.Theimpertinenceofit!I
wouldthankhimnottomeddleinmyconcerns.DidhefancyIneededanursetolookafterme?

Thankingtheman,Ideparted,somewhatataloss,andstillmuchincensedwithmymeddlesomefriend.

Butwherewasthelady?Isetasidemywrathandtriedtopuzzleitout.Evidently,throughinadvertence,
she had named the wrong hotel. Then another thought struck me. Was it inadvertence? Or had she
deliberatelywithheldhernameandgivenmethewrongaddress?

ThemoreIthoughtaboutit,themoreIfeltconvincedthatthislastsurmiseofminewasright.Forsome
reasonorothershedidnotwishtolettheacquaintanceripenintofriendship.And,thoughhalfanhour
earlier this had been precisely my own view, I did not enjoy having the tables turned upon me. The
whole affair was profoundly unsatisfactory, and I went up to the Villa Geneviève in a condition of
distinctillburnout.Ididnotgotothehouse,butwentupthepathtothelittlebenchbytheshed,andsat
theremoodilyenough.

Iwasdistractedfrommythoughtsbythesoundofvoicescloseathand.InasecondortwoIrealized
thattheycame,notfromthegardenIwasin,butfromtheadjoininggardenoftheVillaMarguerite,and
thattheywereapproachingrapidly.Agirl'svoicewasspeaking,avoicethatIrecognizedasthatofthe
beautifulMarthe.

'Chéri,'shewassaying,'isitreallytrue?Areallourtroublesover?'

'Youknowit,Marthe,'JackRenauldreplied.'Nothingcanpartusnow,beloved.Thelastobstacletoour
unionisremoved.Nothingcantakeyoufromme.'

'Nothing?'thegirlmurmured.'Oh,Jack,Jack-Iamafraid.'

Ihadmovedtodepart,realizingthatIwasquiteunintentionallyeavesdropping.AsIrosetomyfeet,I
caughtsightofthemthroughagapinthehedge.Theystoodtogetherfacingme,theman'sarmround
thegirl,hiseyeslookingintohers.Theywereasplendid-lookingcouple,thedark,well-knitboy,and
the fair young goddess. They seemed made for each other as they stood there, happy in spite of the
terribletragedythatovershadowedtheiryounglives.

Butthegirl'sfacewastroubled,andJackRenauldseemedtorecognizeit,asheheldherclosertohim
andasked:

'Butwhatareyouafraidof,darling?Whatistheretofear?'

AndthenIsawthelookinhereyes,thelookPoirothadspokenof,asshemurmured,sothatIalmost
guessedatthewords:

'Iamafraid-foryou.'

IdidnothearyoungRenauld'sanswer,formyattentionwasdistractedbyanunusualappearancealittle

fartherdownthehedge.Thereappearedtobeabrownbushthere,whichseemedodd,tosaytheleastof
it,soearlyinthesummer.Isteppedalongtoinvestigate,but,atmyadvance,thebrownbushwithdrew
itselfprecipitately,andfacedmewithafingertoitslips.ItwasGiraud.

Enjoiningcaution,heledthewayroundthesheduntilwewereoutofearshot.

'Whatwereyoudoingthere?'Iasked.

'Exactlywhatyouweredoing-listening.'

'ButIwasnotthereonpurpose!'

'Ah!'saidGiraud.'Iwas.'

As always, I admired the man while disliking him. He looked me up and down with a sort of
contemptuousdisfavour.

'Youdidn'thelpmattersbybuttingin.Imighthaveheardsomethingusefulinaminute.Whathaveyou
donewithyouroldfossil.'

'MonsieurPoirothasgonetoParis,'Irepliedcoldly.

Giraudsnappedhisfingersdisdainfully.'SohehasgonetoParis,hashe?Well,agoodthing.Thelonger
hestaystherethebetter.Butwhatdoeshethinkhewillfindthere?'

IthoughtIreadinthequestionatingeofuneasiness.Idrewmyselfup.

'ThatIamnotatlibertytosay,'Isaidquietly.

Giraudsubjectedmetoapiercingstare.

'He has probably enough sense not to tell you,' he remarked rudely. 'Good afternoon. I'm busy.' And
withthatheturnedonhisheel,andleftmewithoutceremony.

MattersseemedatastandstillattheVillaGeneviève.Giraudevidentlydidnotdesiremycompanyand,
fromwhatIhadseen,itseemedfairlycertainthatJackRenaulddidnoteither.

Iwentbacktothetown,hadanenjoyablebathe,andreturnedtothehotel.Iturnedinearly,wondering
whetherthefollowingdaywouldbringforthanythingofinterest.Iwaswhollyunpreparedforwhatit
did bring forth. I was eating my petit déjeuner in the dining-room, when the waiter, who had been
talkingtosomeoneoutside,camebackinobviousexcitement.Hehesitatedforaminute,fidgetingwith
hisnapkin,andthenburstout:

'Monsieurwillpardonme,butheisconnected,ishenot,withtheaffairattheVillaGeneviève?'

'Yes,'Isaideagerly.'Why?'

'Monsieurhasnotheardthenews,though?'

'Whatnews?'

'Thattherehasbeenanothermurdertherelastnight!'

'What?'

Leavingmybreakfast,IcaughtupmyhatandranasfastasIcould.Anothermurder-andPoirotaway!
Whatfatality!Butwhohadbeenmurdered?

Idashedinatthegate.Agroupofservantswereinthedrive,talkingandgesticulating.Icaughtholdof
Françoise.

'Whathashappened?'

'Oh,monsieur!monsieur!Anotherdeath!Itisterrible.Thereisacurseuponthehouse.Butyes,Isayit,
acurse!TheyshouldsendforMonsieurleCurétobringsomeholywater.NeverwillIsleepanother
nightunderthatroof.Itmightbemyturn-whoknows?'

Shecrossedherself.

'Yes,'Icried,'butwhohasbeenkilled?'

'DoIknow-me?Aman-astranger.Theyfoundhimupthere-intheshed-notahundredyardsfrom
where they found poor Monsieur. And that is not all. He is stabbed - stabbed in the heart with that
dagger!'

Chapter14

THESECONDBODY

Not waiting for anything else, I turned and ran along the trail that led to the shed. The two men who
wereguardingthedoorsteppedasidetoletmethrough.Ienteredtheshedveryexcited.

Itwasquitedarkinside.Itwasarusticwoodenbuildingtokeepoldpotteryandgardeningtools.Ihad
stormedin,butsloweddownandstoppedonthetreshold,fascinatedbywhatIsaw.

Giraud was on his fours, a lantern in his hand, searching meticulously every inch of the ground. He
raisedhisheadwithafrownwhenheheardmecomingin.Thenherelaxed,andsaidwithanamused
expression:

'Ah,c'estl'Anglais!Docomein!Let'sseewhatyoucanfindout!'

Annoyedbyhistoneofvoice,Iloweredmyheadandenteredtheshed.

'Thereitis,'saidGiraud,pointinghislanternatacorneroftheshed.

Iwentoverthere.

The dead man was on his back. He was of medium height, dark skin, possibly in his fifties. He was
impeccably dressed in a dark-blue well-cut suit. The face was terribly convulsed. On the left side, a
littleover the heart,there was theblack shiny handle ofa paper-knife. Irecognised it immediately. It
wasthesameknifeIhadseeninthejarthemorningbefore!

'Thedoctorisexpectedatanymoment,'Giraudexplained.'Butwepracticallydon'tneedhim.Thereis
no doubt about what killed the man. He was stabbed through the heart and the death must have been
instantaneous.'

'Whendidithappen?Lastnight?'

Giraudshookhishead.

'Hardly.Iliketowaitalwaysforthemedicalpronouncement,butIbetthatthismanisdeadforatleast
twelvehours.Whendidyouseetheknifeforthelasttime?'

'Atteninthemorning.'

'InthiscaseIthinkthatthecrimewascommitednotmuchlater.'

'Buttherewerepeoplepassingbyallthetime!'

Giraudgaveanunpleasantlaugh.

'Whosaidthatthemanwaskilledinthisshed?'

Ifeltmyselfblushing.

'I-I-thoughtthat-'

'Ah,butwhatagreatdetective!Lookathim,monpetit!Doyouthinkamanstabbedthroughtheheart
fallsthiswaywitharmsneatlybesidehim?Ofcoursenot!Andlookhere-andhere-'

Giraudpassedhislanternoverthefloor,revealingstrangeirregularmarksonit.

'He was dragged here after he was killed. Half dragged, half carried by two people. Their footprints
don'tshowonthehardsoiloutside,andinheretheytooktheprecautionsofdestroyingthem.Butthere
isalwayssomethingleft.AndIcanassureyou,myfriend,thatoneofthemwasawoman.'

'Awoman?'

'That'sright.'

'Butifthetrackswereerased,howcanyouknow?'

'Iknowit-bythis!'

Giraudtooksomethingfromthehandleoftheknifeandhelditupforme.Itwasawoman'shair,long
andblack,thesameastheonePoirothadfoundonthechairinthelibrary.

Withanironicsmileheputthehairbackontheknife.

'Letusleavethingsastheyare,asfaraspossible,'heexplained.'Itpleasestheexaminingmagistrate.
Well,doyounoticeanythingelse?'

Iwasforcedtoshakemyhead.

'Lookathishands.'

Idid.Thenailswerebrokenanddiscolouredandtheskinwashard.Ithardlyenlightenedmeasmuchas
Ishouldhavelikedittohavedone.IlookedupatGiraud.

'Theyarenotthehandsofagentleman,'hesaid,answeringmylook.'Onthecontrary,hisclothesare
thoseofawell-to-doman.Thatiscuriousisitnot?'

'Verycurious,'Iagreed.

'Andnoneofhisclothingismarked.Whatdowelearnfromthat?Thismanwastryingtopasshimself
offasotherthanhewas.Hewasmasquerading.Why?Didhefearsomething?Washetryingtoescape
bydisguisinghimself?Asyetwedonotknow,butonethingwedoknow-hewasasanxioustoconceal
hisidentityaswearetodiscoverit.'

Helookeddownatthebodyagain.

'Asbefore,therearenofingerprintsonthehandleofthedagger.Themurdereragainworegloves.'

'Youthink,then,thatthemurdererwasthesameinbothcases?'Iaskedeagerly.

Giraudbecameinscrutable.

'NevermindwhatIthink.Weshallsee.Marchaud!'

Thesergentdevilleappearedatthedoor.

'Monsieur?'

'WhyisMadameRenauldnothere?Isentforheraquarterofanhourago.'

'Sheiscomingupthepathnowmonsieur,andhersonwithher.'

'Good.Ionlywantoneatatime,though.'

Marchaudsalutedanddisappearedagain.AmomentlaterhereappearedwithMrsRenauld.

'HereisMadame.'

Giraudcameforwardwithacurtbow.

'This way, madame.' He led her across, and then, standing suddenly aside, 'Here is the man. Do you
knowhim?'

And as he spoke, his eyes, gimlet-like bored into her face, seeking to read her mind - noting every
indicationofherexpression.

But Mrs Renauld remained perfectly calm - too calm, I felt. She looked down at the corpse almost
withoutinterest,certainlywithoutanysignofagitationorrecognition.

'No,'shesaid.'Ihaveneverseenhiminmylife.Heisquiteastrangertome.'

'Youaresure?'

'Quitesure.'

'Youdonotrecognizeinhimoneofyourassailants,forinstance?'

'No.'Sheseemedtohesitate,asthoughstruckbytheidea.'No,Idonotthinkso.Ofcoursetheywore
beards - false ones the magistrate thought - but still, no.' Now she seemed to make her mind up
definitely,'Iamsureneitherofthetwowasthisman.'

'Wellthen,madame,thatisall.'

Shewentoffwiththesunmakingsilverthreadsinherhair.JackRenauldsucceededher.He,too,failed
toidentifythemaninacompletelynaturalmanner.

Giraudmerelygrunted.WhetherhewaspleasedorchagrinedIcouldnottell.HecalledtoMarchaud.
'Youhavegottheotherthere!'

"Theother"wasMadameDaubreuil.Shecameindignantly,protestingwithvehemence.

'Iprotest,monsieur!Thisisanoutrage!WhathaveItodowithallthis?'

'Madame,'saidGiraudbrutally,'Iaminvestigatingnotonemurder,buttwomurders!ForallIknowyou
mayhavecommittedthemboth.'

'Howdareyou?'shecried.'Howdareyouinsultmebysuchawildaccusation!Itisinfamous!'

'Infamous,isit?Whataboutthis?'Stooping,heagaindetachedthehair,andhelditup.'Doyouseethis,
madame?'

Headvancedtowardsher.'YoupermitthatIseewhetheritmatches?'

Withacryshestartedbackwards,whitetothelips.

'Itisfalse,Iswearit.Iknownothingofthecrime-ofeithercrime.AnyonewhosaysIdolies!Ah,mon
Dieu,whatshallIdo?'

'Calmyourself,madame,'saidGiraudcoldly.'Noonehasaccusedyouasyet.Butyouwilldowellto
answermyquestionswithoutmoreado.'

'Anythingyouwish,monsieur.'

'Lookatthedeadman.Haveyoueverseenhimbefore?'

Drawingnearer,alittleofthecolourcreepingbacktoherface,MadameDaubreuillookeddownatthe
victimwithacertainamountofinterestandcuriosity.Thensheshookherhead.

'Idonotknowhim.'

Itseemedimpossibletodoubther,thewordscamesonaturally.Girauddismissedherwithanodofthe
head.

'Youarelettinghergo?'Iaskedinalowvoice.'Isthatwise?Surelythatblackhairisfromherhead.'

'I do not need teaching my business,' said Giraud dryly. 'She is under surveillance. I have no wish to
arrestherasyet.'

Then,frowning,hegazeddownatthebody.

'ShouldyousaythatwasaSpanishtypeatall?'heaskedsuddenly.

Iconsideredthefacecarefully.

'No,'Isaidatlast.'IshouldputhimdownasaFrenchmanmostdecidedly.'

Giraudgaveagruntofdissatisfaction.

'Samehere.'

He stood there for a moment, then with an imperative gesture he waved me aside and once more, on
handsandkneeshecontinuedhissearchoftheflooroftheshed.Hewasmarvellous.Nothingescaped
him. Inch by inch he went over the floor, turning over pots, examining old sacks. He pounced on a
bundlebythedoor,butitprovedtobeonlyaraggedcoatandtrousers,andheflungitdownagainwith
asnarl.Twopairsofoldglovesinterestedhim,butintheendheshookhisheadandlaidthemaside.
Then he went back to the pots, methodically turning them over one by one. In the end he rose to his
feet, and shook his head thoughtfully. He seemed baffled and perplexed. I think he had forgotten my
presence.

But at the moment a stir and bustle was heard outside, and our old friend, the examining magistrate
accompaniedbyhisclerkandM.Bexwiththedoctorbehindthem,camebustlingin.

'Butthisisextraordinary,MonsieurGiraud,'criedM.Hautet.'Anothercrime!Ah,wehavenotgottothe
bottomofthiscase.Thereissomedeepmysteryhere.Butwhoisthevictimthistime?'

'Thatisjustwhatnobodycantellus,monsieur.Hehasnotbeenidentified.'

'Whereisthebody?'askedthedoctor.

Giraudmovedasidealittle.

'Thereinthecorner.Hehasbeenstabbedtotheheart,asyousee.Andwiththedaggerthatwasstolen
yesterdaymorning.Ifancythatthemurderfollowedharduponthetheft-butthatisforyoutosay.You
canhandlethedaggerfreely-therearenofingerprintsonit.'

ThedoctorkneltdownbythedeadmanandGiraudturnedtotheexaminingmagistrate.

'Aprettylittleproblem,isitnot?ButIshallsolveit.'

'Andsonoonecanidentifyhim,'musedthemagistrate.'Coulditpossiblybeoneoftheassassins?They
mayhavefallenoutamongthemselves.'

Giraudshookhishead.

'ThemanisaFrenchman.Iwouldtakemyoathofthat.'

But at that moment they were interrupted by the doctor, who was sitting back on his heels with a
perplexedexpression.

'Yousayhewaskilledyesterdaymorning?'

'Ifixitbythetheftofthedagger,'explainedGiraud.'Hemay,ofcourse,havebeenkilledlaterinthe
day.'

'Laterintheday?Fiddlesticks!Thismanhasbeendeadatleastforty-eighthours,andprobablylonger.'

Westaredateachotherinblankamazement.

Chapter15

APHOTOGRAPH

The doctor's words were so surprising that we were all momentarily taken aback. Here was a man
stabbedwithadaggerwhichweknewtohavebeenstolenonlytwenty-fourhourspreviously,andyet
Dr Durand asserted positively that he had been dead at least forty-eight hours! The whole thing was
fantastictothelastextreme.

Wewerestillrecoveringfromthesurpriseofthedoctor'sannouncementwhenatelegramwasbrought
tome.IthadbeensentupfromthehoteltotheVilla.Itoreitopen.ItwasfromPoirot,andannounced
hisreturnbythetrainarrivingatMerlinvilleat12.28.

IlookedatmywatchandsawthatIhadjusttimetogetcomfortablytothestationandmeethimthere.I
felt that it was of the utmost importance that he should know at once of the new and startling
developmentsinthecase.

Evidently,Ireflected,PoirothadhadnodifficultyinfindingwhathewantedinParis.Thequicknessof
hisreturnprovedthat.Veryfewhourshadsufficed.IwonderedhowhewouldtaketheexcitingnewsI
hadtoimpart.

Thetrainwassomeminuteslate,andIstrolledaimlesslyupanddowntheplatformuntilitoccurredto
methatImightpassthetimebyaskingafewquestionsastowhohadleftMerlinvillebythelasttrain
ontheeveningofthetragedy.

Iapproachedthechiefporter,anintelligent-lookingman,andhadlittledifficultyinpersuadinghimto
enteruponthesubject.Itwasadisgracetothepolice,hehotlyaffirmed,thatsuchbrigandsorassassins
shouldbeallowedtogoaboutunpunished.Ihintedthattherewassomepossibilitytheymighthaveleft
bythemidnighttrainbuthenegativedtheideadecidedly.Hewouldhavenoticedtwoforeigners-he
wassureofit.Onlyabouttwentypeoplehadleftbythetrain,andhecouldnothavefailedtoobserve
them.

I do not know what put the idea into my head - possibly it was the deep anxiety underlying Marthe
Daubreuil'stones-butIaskedsuddenly:

'YoungMonsieurRenauld-hedidnotleavebythattrain,didhe?'

'Ah,no,monsieur.Toarriveandstartoffagainwithinhalfanhour,itwouldnotbeamusing,that!'

Istaredattheman,thesignificanceofhiswordsalmostescapingme.ThenIsaw.

'You mean,' I said, my heart beating a little, 'that Monsieur Jack Renauld arrived at Merlinville that
evening?'

'Butyes,monsieur.Bythelasttrainarrivingtheotherway,the11.40.'

Mybrainwhirled.That,then,wasthereasonofMarthe'spoignantanxiety.JackRenauldhadbeenin
Merlinvilleonthenightofthecrime.Butwhyhadhenotsaidso?Why,onthecontrary,hadheledusto
believethathehadremainedinCherbourg?Rememberinghisfrankboyishcountenance,Icouldhardly
bringmyselftobelievethatbehadanyconnectionwiththecrime.Yetwhythissilenceonhispartabout
sovitalamatter?Onethingwascertain,Marthehadknownallalong.Henceheranxiety,andhereager
questioningofPoirotastowhetheranyonewassuspected.

Mycogitationswereinterruptedbythearrivalofthetrain,andinanothermomentIwasgreetingPoirot.
Thelittlemanwasradiant.Hebeamedandvociferatedand,forgettingmyEnglishreluctance,embraced
mewarmlyontheplatform.

'Moncherami!Ihavesucceeded-butsucceededtoamarvel!'

'Indeed?I'mdelightedtohearit.Haveyouheardthelatesthere?'

'How would you that I should hear anything? There have been some developments, eh? The brave
Giraudhehasmadeanarrest?Orevenarrestsperhaps?Ah,butImakehimlookfoolish,thatone!But
where are you taking me, my friend? Do we not go to the hotel? It is necessary that I attend to my
moustaches-theyaredeplorablylimpfromtheheatoftravelling.Also,withoutdoubt,thereisduston
mycoat.Andmytie,thatImustrearrange.'

Icutshorthisremonstrances.

'MydearPoirot-nevermindallthat.WemustgototheVillaatonce.Therehasbeenanothermurder!'

NeverhaveIseenamansoflabbergasted.Hisjawdropped.Allthejauntinesswentoutofhisbearing.
Hestaredatmeopen-mouthed.

'Whatisthatyousay?Anothermurder?Ah,then,butIamallwrong.Ihavefailed.Giraudmaymock
himselfatme-hewillhavereason!'

'Youdidnotexpectit,then?'

'I?Nottheleastintheworld.Itdemolishesmytheory-itruinseverything-it-Ah,no!'Hestopped
dead,thumpinghimselfonthechest.'Itisimpossible.Icannotbewrong!Thefacts,takenmethodically,
andintheirproperorder,admitofonlyoneexplanation.Imustberight!Iamright!'

'Butthen-'

Heinterruptedme.

'Wait, my friend. I must be right, therefore this new murder is impossible unless - unless - oh wait, I
imploreyou.Saynoword.'

Hewassilentforamomentortwo,thenresuminghisnormalmanner,hesaidinaquietassuredvoice:

'Thevictimisamanofmiddleage.Hisbodywasfoundinthelockedshednearthesceneofthecrime

andhadbeendeadatleastforty-eighthours.Anditismostprobablethathewasstabbedinasimilar
mannertoMrRenauld,thoughnotnecessarilyintheback.'

It was my turn to stare open-mouthed. In my knowledge of Poirot he had never done anything so
amazingasthis.And,almostinevitablyadoubtcrossedmymind.

'Poirot,'Icried,'you'repullingmyleg.You'veheardallaboutitalready.'

Heturnedhisearnestgazeuponmereproachfully.

'WouldIdosuchathing?IassureyouthatIhaveheardnothingwhatsoever.Didyounotobservethe
shockyournewswastome?'

'Buthowonearthcouldyouknowallthat?'

'I was right, then? But I knew it. The little grey cells, my friend, the little grey cells! They told me.
Thus,andinnootherway,couldtherehavebeenaseconddeath.Nowtellmeall.Ifwegoroundtothe
left here, we can take a short cut across the golf links which will bring us to the back of the Villa
Genevièvemuchmorequickly.'

Aswewalked,takingthewayhehadindicatedIrecountedallIknew.Poirotlistenedattentively.

'Thedaggerwasinthewound,yousay?Thatiscurious.Youaresureitwasthesameone?'

'Absolutelycertain.That'swhatmakesitsoimpossible.'

'Nothingisimpossible.Theremayhavebeentwodaggers.'

Iraisedmyeyebrows.

'Surelythatisinthehighestdegreeunlikely?Itwouldbeamostextraordinarycoincidence.'

'Youspeakasusual,withoutreflection,Hastings.Insomecasestwoidenticalweaponswouldbehighly
improbable.Butnothere.ThisparticularweaponwasawarsouvenirwhichwasmadetoJackRenauld's

orders.Itisreallyhighlyunlikely,whenyoucometothinkofit,thatheshouldhavehadonlyonemade.
Veryprobablyhewouldhaveanotherforhisownuse.'

'Butnobodyhasmentionedsuchathing,'Iobjected.

AhintofthelecturercreptintoPoirot'stone.

'Myfriend,inworkinguponacase,onedoesnottakeintoaccountonlythethingsthatare"mentioned".
Thereisnoreasontomentionmanythingswhichmaybeimportant.Equally,thereisoftenanexcellent
reasonfornotmentioningthem.Youcantakeyourchoiceofthetwomotives.'

I was silent, impressed in spite of myself. Another few minutes brought us to the famous shed. We
foundallourfriendsthere,andafteraninterchangeofpoliteamenities,Poirotbeganhistask.

HavingwatchedGiraudatwork,Iwaskeenlyinterested.Poirotbestowedbutacursoryglanceonthe
surroundings.Theonlythingheexaminedwastheraggedcoatandtrousersbythedoor.Adisdainful
smilerosetoGiraud'slips,and,asthoughnotingit,Poirotflungthebundledownagain.

'Oldclothesofthegardener's?'hequeried.

'Exactly,'saidGiraud.

Poirotkneltdownbythebody.Hisfingerswererapidbutmethodical.Heexaminedthetextureofthe
clothes,andsatisfiedhimselfthattherewerenomarksonthem.Thebootshesubjectedtospecialcare,
alsothedirtyandbrokenfingernails.WhileexaminingthelatterhethrewaquickquestionatGiraud.

'Yousawthem?'

'Yes,Isawthem,'repliedtheother.Hisfaceremainedinscrutable.

SuddenlyPoirotstiffened.

'DrDurand!'

'Yes?'Thedoctorcameforward.

'Thereisfoamonthelips.Youobservedit?'

'Ididn'tnoticeit,Imustadmit.'

'Butyouobserveitnow?'

'Oh,certainly.'

PoirotagainshotaquestionatGiraud.

'Younoticeditwithoutdoubt?'

Theotherdidnotreply.Poirotproceeded.Thedaggerhadbeenwithdrawnfromthewound.Itstoodina
glassjarbythesideofthebody.Poirotexaminedit,thenhestudiedthewoundclosely.Whenhelooked
uphiseyeswereshining.

'Itisastrangewoundthis!Ithasnotbled.Thereisnostainontheclothes.Thebladeofthedaggeris
slightlydiscoloured,thatisall.Whatdoyouthinkmonsieurdocteur?'

'Icanonlysaythatitismostabnormal.'

'Itisnotabnormalatall.Itismostsimple.Themanwasstabbedafterhewasalreadydead.'Andstilling
theclamourofvoicesthatarosewithawaveofhishand,PoirotturnedtoGiraudandadded:'M.Giraud
agreeswithmedoyounot,monsieur?'

Whatever Giraud's real belief, he accepted the position without moving a muscle. Calmly and almost
scornfullyheanswered:

'Certainly.Iagree.'

Themurmurofsurpriseandinterestbrokeoutagain.

'But what an idea!' cried M. Hautet. 'To stab a man after he is dead! Barbaric! Unheard of! Some
unappeasablehateperhaps.'

'No,'saidPoirot.'Ishouldfancyitwasdonequitecold-bloodedly-tocreateanimpression.'

'Whatimpression?'

'Theimpressionitnearlydidcreate,'returnedPoirotoracularly.

M.Bexhadbeenthinking.

'How,then,wasthemankilled?'

'Hewasnotkilled.Hedied.Hedied,ifIamnotmuchmistaken,ofanepilepticfit!'

This statement of Poirot's again aroused considerable excitement. Dr Durand knelt down again, and
madeasearchingexamination.Atlastherosetohisfeet.

'Monsieur Poirot, I am inclined to believe that you are correct in your assertion. The incontrovertible
factthatthemanhadbeenstabbeddistractedmyattentionfromanyotherindications.'

Poirot was the hero of the hour. The examining magistrate was profuse in compliments. Poirot
respondedfully,andthenexcusedhimselfonthepretextthatneitherhenorIhadyetlunchedandthat
hewishedtorepairtheravagesofthejourney.Aswewereabouttoleavetheshed,Giraudapproached
us.

'Oneotherthing,MonsieurPoirot,'hesaidinhissuavemockingvoice.'Wefoundthiscoiledroundthe
handleofthedagger-awoman'shair.'

'Ah,'saidPoirot.'Awoman'shair?Whatwoman's,Iwonder?'

'Iwonderalso,'saidGiraud.Thenwithabowheleftus.

'HewasinsistentthegoodGiraud,'saidPoirotthoughtfully,aswewalkedtowardsthehotel.'Iwonder
inwhatdirectionhehopestomisleadme?Awoman'shair-h'm!'

Welunchedheartily,butIfoundPoirotsomewhatdistraitandinattentive.Afterwardswewentuptoour
sitting-roomandthereIbeggedhimtotellmesomethingofhismysteriousjourneytoParis.

'Willingly,myfriend.IwenttoParistofindthis!'

He took from his pocket a small faded newspaper cutting. It was the reproduction of a woman's
photograph.Hehandedittome.Iutteredanexclamation.

'Yourecognizeit,myfriend?'

Inodded.Althoughthephotoobviouslydatedfromverymanyyearshack,andthehairwasdressedina
differentstyle,thelikenesswasunmistakable.

'MadameDaubreuil!'Iexclaimed.

Poirotshookhisheadwithasmile.

'Notquitecorrect,myfriend.Shedidnotcallherselfbythatnameinthosedays.Thatisapictureofthe
notoriousMadameBeroldy!'

MadameBeroldy!Inaflashthewholethingcamebacktome.Themurdertrialthathadevokedsuch
world-wideinterest.

TheBeroldyCase.

Chapter16

THEBEROLDYCASE

Sometwentyyearsorsobeforetheopeningofthepresentstory,MonsieurArnoldBeroldy,anativeof
Lyons,arrivedinParisaccompaniedbyhisprettywifeandtheirlittledaughter,amerebabe.Monsieur
Beroldywasajuniorpartnerinafirmofwinemerchants,astoutmiddle-agedman,fondofthegood
things of life, devoted to his charming wife, and altogether unremarkable in every way. The firm in
whichMonsieurBeroldywasapartnerwasasmalloneand,althoughdoingwell,itdidnotyieldalarge

incometothejuniorpartner.TheBeroldyshadasmallapartmentandlivedinaverymodestfashionto
beginwith.

But,unremarkablethoughMonsieurBeroldymightbe,hiswifewasplentifullygildedwiththebrushof
Romance. Young and good-looking, and gifted with a singular charm of manner, Madame Beroldy at
oncecreatedastirinthequarter,especiallywhenitbegantobewhisperedthatsomeinterestingmystery
surroundedherbirth.ItwasrumouredthatshewastheillegitimatedaughterofaRussianGrandDuke.
OthersassertedthatitwasanAustrianArch-duke,andthattheunionwaslegal,thoughmorganatic.But
allstoriesagreedupononepoint,thatJeanneBeroldywasthecentreofaninterestingmystery.

Among the friends and acquaintances of the Beroldys was a young lawyer, Georges Conneau. It was
soon evident that the fascinating Jeanne had completely enslaved his heart. Madame Beroldy
encouraged the young man in a discreet fashion, but always being careful to affirm her complete
devotion to her middle-aged husband. Nevertheless, many spiteful persons did not hesitate to declare
thatyoungConneauwasherlover-andnottheonlyone!

WhentheBeroldyshadbeeninParisaboutthreemonthsanotherpersonagecameuponthescene.This
was Mr Hiram P. Trapp, a native of the United States, and extremely wealthy. Introduced to the
charmingandmysteriousMadameBeroldy,hefellapromptvictimtoherfascinations.Hisadmiration
wasobvious,thoughstrictlyrespectful.Aboutthistime,MadameBeroldybecamemoreoutspokenin
her confidences. To several friends, she declared herself greatly worried on her husband's behalf. She
explainedthathehadbeendrawnintoseveralschemesofapoliticalnature,andalsoreferredtosome
importantpapersthathadbeenentrustedtohimforsafe-keepingandwhichconcerneda'secret'offar-
reachingEuropeanimportance.Theyhadbeenentrustedtohiscustodytothrowpursuersoffthetrack,
butMadameBeroldywasnervous,havingrecognizedseveralimportantmembersoftheRevolutionary
CircleinParis.

On the 28th day of November the blow fell. The woman who came daily to clean and cook for the
Beroldys was surprised to find the door of the apartment standing wide open. Hearing faint moans
issuingfromthebedroom,shewentin.Aterriblesightmethereyes.MadameBeroldylayonthefloor
boundhandandfoot,utteringfeeblemoans,havingmanagedtofreehermouthfromagag.Onthebed
wasMonsieurBeroldy,lyinginapoolofblood,withaknifedriventhroughhisheart.

Madame Beroldy's story was clear enough. Suddenly awakened from sleep, she had discerned two
masked men bending over her. Stifling her cries, they had bound and gagged her. They had then
demandedofMonsieurBeroldythefamous'secret'.

Buttheintrepidwinemerchantrefusedpoint-blanktoaccedetotheirrequest.Angeredbyhisrefusal,
oneofthemenstabbedhimthroughtheheart.Withthedeadman'skeys,theyhadopenedthesafeinthe
corner, and had carried away with them a mass of papers. Both men were heavily bearded, and had
wornmasks,butMadameBeroldydeclaredpositivelythattheywereRussians.

The affair created an immense sensation. Time went on, and the mysterious bearded men were never
traced.Andthen,justaspublicinterestwasbeginningtodiedown,astartlingdevelopmentoccurred:
MadameBeroldywasarrestedandchargedwiththemurderofherhusband.Thetrial,whenitcameon,
arousedwidespreadinterest.

The youth and beauty of the accused, and her mysterious story, were sufficient to make of it a cause
célèbre.

ItwasprovedbeyonddoubtthatJeanneBeroldy'sparentswereahighlyrespectableandprosaiccouple,
fruitmerchantswholivedontheoutskirtsofLyons.TheRussianGrandDuke,thecourtintrigues,and
the political schemes - all the stories about were traced back to the lady herself! Remorselessly, the
wholestoryofherlifewaslaidbare.ThemotiveforthemurderwasfoundinMrHiramP.Trapp.Mr
Trappdidhisbest,but,relentlesslyandagilelycross-questioned,hewasforcedtoadmitthatheloved
thelady,andthat,hadshebeenfree,hewouldhaveaskedhertobehiswife.Thefactthattherelations
between them were admittedly platonic strengthened the case against the accused. Debarred from
becominghismistressbythesimplehonourablenatureoftheman,JeanneBeroldyhadconceivedthe
monstrousprojectofriddingherselfofherelderly,undistinguishedhusbandandbecomingthewifeof
therichAmerican.

Throughout, Madame Beroldy confronted her accusers with complete sang-froid and self-possession.
Herstorynevervaried.Shecontinuedtodeclarestrenuouslythatshewasofroyalbirthandthatshehad
been substituted for the daughter of the fruit-seller at an early age. Absurd and completely
unsubstantiatedasthesestatementswere,agreatnumberofpeoplebelievedimplicitlyintheirtruth.

Buttheprosecutionwasimplacable.Itdenouncedthemasked'Russians'asamyth,andassertedthatthe
crimehadbeencommittedbyMadameBeroldyandherlover,GeorgesConneau.Awarrantwasissued
for the arrest of the latter, but he had wisely disappeared. Evidence showed that the bonds which
securedMadameBeroldyweresoloosethatshecouldeasilyhavefreedherself.

Andthen,towardsthecloseofthetrial,aletter,postedinParis,wassenttothePublicProsecutor.Itwas
from Georges Conneau and, without revealing his whereabouts, it contained a full confession of the
crime.HedeclaredthathehadindeedstruckthefatalblowatMadameBeroldy'sinstigation.Thecrime
hadbeenplannedbetweenthem.Believingthatherhusbandill-treatedher,andmaddenedbyhisown
passionforher,apassionwhichhebelievedhertoreturn,hehadplannedthecrimeandstruckthefatal
blowthatshouldfreethewomanhelovedfromahatefulbondage.

Now, for the first time, he learnt of Mr Hiram P. Trapp, and realized that the woman he loved had
betrayedhim!Notforhissakedidshewishtobefree,butinordertomarrythewealthyAmerican.She
hadusedhimasacat'spaw,andnow,inhisjealousrage,heturnedanddenouncedher,declaringthat
throughouthehadactedatherinstigation.

And then Madame Beroldy proved herself the remarkable woman she undoubtedly was. Without
hesitation,shedroppedherpreviousdefence,andadmittedthatthe'Russians'wereapureinventionon
herpart.TherealmurdererwasGeorgesConneau.Maddenedbypassion,hehadcommittedthecrime,
vowingthatifshedidnotkeepsilencehewouldexactaterriblevengeancefromher.Terrifiedbyhis
threats, she had consented - also fearing it likely that if she told the truth she might be accused of
connivingatthecrime,butshehadsteadfastlyrefusedtohaveanythingmoretodowithherhusband's
murderer,anditwasinrevengeforthisattitudeonherpartthathehadwrittenthisletteraccusingher.

Shesworesolemnlythatshehadhadnothingtodowiththeplanningofthecrimes-thatshehadawoke
on that memorable night to find Georges Conneau standing over her, the blood-stained knife in his
hand.

Itwasatouch-and-goaffair.MadameBeroldy'sstorywashardlycredible.Butheraddresstothejury
wasamasterpiece.Thetearsstreamingdownherface,shespokeofherchild-ofherwoman'shonour-
ofherdesiretokeepherreputationuntarnishedforthechild'ssake.Sheadmittedthat,GeorgesConneau
havingbeenherlover,shemightperhapsbeheldmorallyresponsibleforthecrime-but,beforeGod,
nothingmore!SheknewthatshehadcommittedagravefaultinnotdenouncingConneautothelawbut
she declared in a broken voice that that was a thing no woman could have done. She had loved him!
Couldsheletherhandbetheonetosendhimtotheguillotine?Shehadbeenguiltyofmuch,butshe
wasinnocentoftheterriblecrimeimputedtoher.

Howeverthatmayhavebeen,hereloquenceandpersonalitywontheday.MadameBeroldy,amidsta
sceneofunparalleledexcitement,wasacquitted.

Despite the utmost endeavours of the police, Georges Conneau was never traced. As for Madame
Beroldy,nothingmorewasheardofher.Takingthechildwithher,sheleftParistobeginanewlife.

Chapter17

WEMAKEFURTHERINVESTIGATIONS

I have set down the Beroldy case in full. Of course all the details did not present themselves to my
memory as I have recounted them here. Nevertheless, I recalled the case fairly accurately. It had
attractedagreatdealofinterestatthetime,andhadbeenfullyreportedbytheEnglishpapers,sothatit
didnotneedmucheffortofmemoryonmyparttorecollectthesalientdetails.

Just for the moment, in my excitement, it seemed to clear up the whole matter. I admit that I am
impulsive,andPoirotdeploresmycustomofjumpingtoconclusions,butIthinkIhadsomeexcusein
thisinstance.TheremarkablewayinwhichthisdiscoveryjustifiedPoirot'spointofviewstruckmeat
once.

'Poirot,'Isaid'Icongratulateyou.Iseeeverythingnow.'

Poirotlitoneofhislittlecigaretteswithhisusualprecision.Thenhelookedup.

'Andsinceyouseeeverythingnow,monami,whatexactlyisitthatyousee?'

'Why,thatitwasMadameDaubreuil-Beroldy-whomurderedMrRenauld.Thesimilarityofthetwo
casesprovesthatbeyondadoubt.'

'ThenyouconsiderthatMadameBeroldywaswronglyacquitted?Thatinactualfactshewasguiltyof
connivanceinherhusband'smurder?'

Iopenedmyeyeswide.

'Ofcourse!Don'tyou?'

Poirotwalkedtotheendoftheroom,absent-mindedlystraightenedachair,andthensaidthoughtfully:

'Yes,thatismyopinion.Butthereisno"ofcourse"aboutit,myfriend.Technicallyspeaking,Madame
Beroldyisinnocent.'

'Ofthatcrime,perhaps.Butnotofthis.'

Poirotsatdownagain,andregardedme,histhoughtfulairmoremarkedthanever.

'Soitisdefinitelyyouropinion,Hastings,thatMadameDaubreuilmurderedMonsieurRenauld?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

HeshotthequestionatmewithsuchsuddennessthatIwastakenaback.

'Why?'Istammered.'Why?Oh,because-'Icametoastop.

Poirotnoddedhisheadatme.

'Yousee,youcometoastumbling-blockatonce.WhyshouldMadameDaubreuil(Ishallcallherthat
for clearness' sake) murder Monsieur Renauld? We can find no shadow of a motive. She does not
benefitbyhisdeath;consideredaseithermistressorblackmailershestandstolose.Youcannothavea
murderwithoutmotive.Thefirstcrimewasdifferent-therewehadarichloverwaitingtostepintoher
husband'sshoes.'

'Moneyisnottheonlymotiveformurder,'Iobjected.

'True,'agreedPoirotplacidly.'Therearetwoothers,thecrimepassionnelisone.Andthereisthethird
rare motive, murder for an idea which implies some form of mental derangement on the part of the
murderer.Homicidalmaniaandreligiousfanaticismbelongtothatclass.Wecanruleitouthere.'

'But what about the crime passionnel? Can you rule that out? If Madame Daubreuil was Renauld's
mistress,ifshefoundthathisaffectionwascooling,orifherjealousywasarousedinanyway,might
shenothavestruckhimdowninamomentofanger?'

Poirotshookhishead.

'If-Isayif,younote-MadameDaubreuilwasRenauld'smistress,hehadnothadtimetotireofher.
And in any case you mistake her character. She is a woman who can simulate great emotional stress.
She is a magnificent actress. But, looked at dispassionately, her life disproves her appearance.
Throughout,ifweexamineit,shehasbeencold-bloodedandcalculatinginhermotivesandactions.It
wasnottolinkherlifewiththatofheryoungloverthatshecontrivedatherhusband'smurder.Therich
American,forwhomsheprobablydidnotcareabutton,washerobjective.Ifshecommittedacrime,
shewouldalwaysdosoforgain.Heretherewasnogain.Besides,howdoyouaccountforthedigging
ofthegrave?Thatwasaman'swork.'

'Shemighthavehadanaccomplice,'Isuggested,unwillingtorelinquishmybelief.

'Ipasstoanotherobjection.Youhavespokenofthesimilaritybetweenthetwocrimes.Whereindoes
thatlie,myfriend?'

Istaredathiminastonishment.

'Why,Poirot,itwasyouwhoremarkedonthat!Thestoryofthemaskedmen,the"secret",thepapers!'

Poirotsmiledalittle.

'Donotbesoindignant,Ibegofyou.Irepudiatenothing.Thesimilarityofthetwostorieslinksthetwo
casestogetherinevitably.Butreflectnowonsomethingverycurious.ItisnotMadameDaubreuilwho
tells us this tale - if it were, all would indeed be plain sailing - it is Madame Renauld. Is she then in
leaguewiththeother?'

'I can't believe that,' I said slowly. 'If she is, she must be the most consummate actress the world has
everknown.'

'Ta-ta-ta!'saidPoirotimpatiently.'Againyouhavethesentimentandnotthelogic!Ifitisnecessaryfor
acriminaltobeaconsummateactress,thenbyallmeansassumehertobeone.Butisitnecessary?Ido
notbelieveMrsRenauldtobeinleaguewithMadameDaubreuilforseveralreasons,someofwhichI
have already presented. The others are more evident. So, having discarded this possibility, we come
veryclosetothetruth,whichisextremelycuriousandinteresting,asitalwayshappens.'

'Whatelsedoyouknow,Poirot?'

'You must make your own deductions, mon ami. You had access to the facts! Put your grey cells to
work.Think...notlikeGiraud,butlikeHerculePoirot.'

'Butdoyouknow?'

'Myfriend,Ihavebeenafoolaboutmanythings.But,atlast,Iseeclearly.'

'Doyouknoweverything?'

'IfoundoutwhatM.Renauldcalledmetofindout.'

'Andyouknowwhothemurdereris?'

'Iknowwhothemurdereris.'

'How?'

'Ithinkwearetalkingaboutdifferentthings.Thereisnotonlyonecrime,buttwo.ThefirstIsolved.
Thesecond-ehbien,IconfessIamnotsureyet!'

'ButIthoughtyousaidthemaninthesheddiedofnaturalcauses.'

'Ta-ta-ta!'saidPoirot.'Youstilldon'tunderstand.Youmayhaveonecrimewithoutamurderer,butfor
twocrimesitisessentialthatyouhavetwobodies.'

This observation of Poirot's seemed so strange to me, that I gazed at him with some anxiety. But he
seemedperfectlynormal.Suddenlyhestoodupandwenttothewindow,saying:

'Therehecomes.'

'Who?'

'M.JackRenauld.Isenthimanoteaskinghimtocomehere.'

Thischangedentirelythecourseofmythoughts.IaskedPoirotifheknewthatJackRenauldhadbeen
atMerlinvilleonthenightofthecrime.Ihadhopedtocatchmyastutelittlefriendnapping,butasusual
hewasomniscient.He,too,hadinquiredatthestation.

'Andwithoutdoubtwearenotoriginalintheidea,Hastings.TheexcellentGiraud,healsohasprobably
madeinquiries.'

'Youdon'tthink-'Isaidandthenstopped.'Ahno,itwouldbetoohorrible!'

Poirotlookedinquiringlyatme,butIsaidnomore.Ithadjustoccurredtomethatthoughtherewere
sevenwomen,directlyandindirectlyconnectedwiththecase-MrsRenauld,MadameDaubreuiland
her daughter, the mysterious visitor and the three servants - there was, with the exception of old
Auguste,whocouldhardlycount,onlyoneman-JackRenauld.Andonlyamancouldhavedugthe

grave.

I had no time to develop farther the appalling idea that had occurred to me, for Jack Renauld was
usheredintotheroom.

Poirotgreetedhiminbusiness-likemanner.

'Take a seat, monsieur. I regret infinitely to derange you, but you will perhaps understand that the
atmosphereoftheVillaisnottoocongenialtome.MonsieurGiraudandIdonotseeeyetoeyeabout
everything.Hispolitenesstomehasnotbeenstriking,andyouwillcomprehendthatIdonotintendany
littlediscoveriesImaymaketobenefithiminanyway.'

'Exactly, Monsieur Poirot' said the lad. 'That fellow Giraud is an ill-conditioned brute, and I'd be
delightedtoseesomeonescoreathisexpense.'

'ThenImayaskalittlefavourofyou?'

'Certainly.'

'Iwillaskyoutogotoherailwaystationandtakeatraintothenextstationalongtheline,Abbalac.Ask
at the cloak-room whether two foreigners deposited a valise there on the night of the murder. It is a
smallstation,andtheyarealmostcertaintoremember.Willyoudothis?'

'OfcourseIwill,'saidtheboymystified,thoughreadyforthetask.

'I and my friend, you comprehend, have business elsewhere,' explained Poirot. 'There is a train in a
quarterofanhour,andIwillaskyounottoreturntotheVillaasIhavenowishforGiraudtogetan
inklingofyourerrand.'

'Verywell,Iwillgostraighttothestation.'

Herosetohisfeet.Poirot'svoicestoppedhim:

'Onemoment,MonsieurRenauld-thereisonelittlematterthatpuzzlesme.Whydidyounotmention
toMonsieurHautetthismorningthatyouwereinMerlinvilleonthenightofthecrime?'

JackRenauld'sfacewentcrimson.Withanefforthecontrolledhimself.

'Youhavemadeamistake.IwasinCherbourgasItoldtheexaminingmagistratethismorning.'

Poirotlookedathim,hiseyesnarrowedcat-likeuntiltheyonlyshowedagleamofgreen.

'ThenitisasingularmistakethatIhavemadethere-foritissharedbythestationstaff.Theysayyou
arrivedbythe11.40train.'

ForamomentJackRenauldhesitated,thenhemadeuphismind.

'AndifIdid?Isupposeyoudonotmeantoaccusemeofparticipatinginmyfather'smurder?'Heasked
thequestionhaughtily,hisheadthrownback.

'Ishouldlikeanexplanationofthereasonthatbroughtyouhere.'

'Thatissimpleenough.Icametoseemyfiancée,MademoiselleDaubreuil.Iwasontheeveofalong
voyage, uncertain as to when I should return. I wished to see her before I went, to assure her of my
unchangingdevotion.'

'Anddidyouseeher?'Poirot'seyesneverlefttheother'sface.

TherewasanappreciablepausebeforeRenauldreplied.Thenhesaid:

'Yes.'

'Andafter?'

'IfoundIhadmissedthelasttrain.IwalkedtoStBeauvais,whereIknockedupagarageandgotacar
totakemebacktoCherbourg.'

'StBeauvais?Thatisfifteenkilometres.Alongwalk,M.Renauld.'

'I-Ifeltlikewalking.'

Poirotbowedhisheadasasignthatheacceptedtheexplanation.JackRenauldtookuphishatandcane
anddeparted.InatricePoirotjumpedtohisfeet.

'Quick,Hastings.Wewillgoafterhim.'

Keepingadiscreetdistancebehindourquarry,wefollowedhimthroughthestreetsofMerlinville.But
whenPoirotsawthathetooktheturningtothestationhecheckedhimself.

'Alliswell.Hehastakenthebait.HewillgotoAbbalac,andwillinquireforthemythicalvaliseleftby
themythicalforeigners.Yes,monami,allthatwasalittleinventionofmine.'

'Youwantedhimoutoftheway!'Iexclaimed.

'Yourpenetrationisamazing,Hastings!Now,ifyouplease,wewillgouptotheVillaGeneviève.'

Chapter18

GIRAUDACTS

Wewentbackbytheroadintheheat.

'Iwasforgettingtotellyousomething,Poirot.Ihaveacomplainttomake.Iknowyourintentionswere
good,butyoushouldn'tgoandinvestigateattheHôtelduPharewithoutatleasttellingme.'

Poirotthrewmeaquickglancebeforeasking:

'AndhowdoyouknowIwasthere?'

IfeltthatIwasgrowingredintheface.

'Ihappenedtopassbyandasked,'IexplainedwithallthedignityIcouldmuster.

IfearedthatPoirotwouldlaughbut,tomyrelief,heonlyshookhisheadinunexpectedearnestness.

'IfIhaveoffendedyouinanyway,Iaskyoutoforgiveme.Soonyouwillunderstandbetter.'

'Noproblem,'Imurmured,soothedbytheapologies.'Iknowyoudiditbecauseyouwereconcernedfor
me.ButIcanlookaftermyself.'

ItseemedthatPoirothadsomethingmoretosay,butthenhechangedhismindandremainedsilent.

ArrivingattheVillaPoirotledthewayuptotheshedwherethesecondbodyhadbeendiscovered.He
didnot,however,goin,butpausedbythebenchwhichIhavementionedbeforeasbeingsetsomefew
yardsawayfromit.Aftercontemplatingitforamomentortwo,hepacedcarefullyfromittothehedge
whichmarkedtheboundarybetweentheVillaGenevièveandtheVillaMarguerite.Thenhepacedback
again,noddinghisheadashedidso.Returningagaintothehedge,hepartedthebusheswithhishands.

'Withgoodluck,'heremarkedtomeoverhisshoulder,'MademoiselleMarthemayfindherselfinthe
garden.IdesiretospeaktoherandwouldprefernottocallformallyattheVillaMarguerite.Ah,allis
well,theresheis.Pst,Mademoiselle!Pst!Unmoment,s'ilvousplaît.'

I joined him at the moment that Marthe Daubreuil, looking slightly startled, came running up to the
hedgeathiscall.

'Alittlewordwithyoumademoiselle,ifitispermitted?'

'Certainly,MonsieurPoirot.'

Despiteheracquiescence,hereyeslookedtroubledandafraid.

'Mademoiselle,doyourememberrunningaftermeontheroadthedaythatIcametoyourhousewith
theexaminingmagistrate?Youaskedmeifanyonewassuspectedofthecrime.'

'And you told me two Chileans.' Her voice sounded rather breathless, and her left hand stole to her
breast.

'Willyouaskmethesamequestionagain,mademoiselle?'

'Whatdoyoumean?'

'This. If you were to ask me that question again, I should give you a different answer. Someone is
suspected-butnotaChilean.'

'Who?'Thewordcamefaintlybetweenherpartedlips.

'MonsieurJackRenauld!'

'What?'Itwasacry.'Jack?Impossible.Whodarestosuspecthim?'

'Giraud.'

'Giraud!'Thegirl'sfacewasashy.'Iamafraidofthatman.Heiscruel.Hewill-hewill-'Shebrokeoff.
There was courage gathering in her face and determination. I realized in that moment that she was a
fighter.Poirottoo,watchedherintently.

'Youknow,ofcourse,thathewashereonthenightofthemurder?'heasked.

'Yes,'sherepliedmechanically.'Hetoldme.'

'Itwasunwisetohavetriedtoconcealthefact,'venturedPoirot.

'Yes,yes'sherepliedimpatiently.'Butwecannotwastetimeonregrets.Wemustfindsomethingtosave
him.Heisinnocent,ofcourse;butthatwillnothelphimwithamanlikeGiraud,whohashisreputation
tothinkof.Hemustarrestsomeone,andthatsomeonewillbeJack.'

'Thefactswilltellagainsthim,'saidPoirot.'Yourealizethat?'

Shefacedhimsquarely.

'Iamnotachild,monsieur.Icanbebraveandlookfactsintheface.Heisinnocent,andwemustsave
him.'

Shespokewithakindofdesperateenergy,thenwassilent,frowningasshethought.

'Mademoiselle,'saidPoirot,observingherkeenly,'istherenotsomethingthatyouarekeepingbackthat
youcouldtellus?'

Shenoddedperplexedly.

'Yes,thereissomething,butIhardlyknowwhetheryouwillbelieveit-itseemssoabsurd.'

'Atanyrate,tellus,mademoiselle.'

'It is this. M. Giraud sent for me, as an afterthought, to see if I could identify the man in there.' She
signedwithherheadtowardstheshed.'Icouldnot.AtleastIcouldnotatthemoment.ButsinceIhave
beenthinking-'

'Well?'

'It seems so queer, and yet I am almost sure. I will tell you. On the morning of the day Monsieur
Renauld was murdered, I was walking in the garden here, when I heard a sound of men's voices
quarrelling.Ipushedasidethebushesandlookedthrough.OneofthemenwasMonsieurRenauldand
the other was a tramp, a dreadful-looking creature in filthy rags. He was alternately whining and
threatening.Igatheredhewasaskingformoney,butatthatmomentmamancalledmefromthehouse,
andIhadtogo.Thatisall,onlyIamalmostsurethatthetrampandthedeadmanintheshedareone
andthesame.'

Poirotutteredanexclamation.

'Butwhydidyounotsaysoatthetime,mademoiselle?'

'Because at first it only struck me that the face was vaguely familiar in some way. The man was
differentlydressed,andapparentlybelongedtoasuperiorstationinlife.'

Avoicecalledfromthehouse.

'Maman,'whisperedMarthe.'Imustgo.'Andsheslippedawaythroughthetrees.

'Come,'saidPoirot,andtakingmyarm,heturnedinthedirectionoftheVilla.

'Whatdoyoureallythink?'Iaskedinsomecuriosity.'Wasthatstorytrue,ordidthegirlmakeitupin
ordertodivertsuspicionfromherlover?'

'It is a curious tale,' said Poirot 'but I believe it to be the absolute truth. Unwittingly, Mademoiselle
Marthetoldusthetruthonanotherpoint-andincidentallygaveJackRenauldthelie.Didyounotice
hishesitationwhenIaskedhimifhesawMartheDaubreuilonthenightofthecrime?Hepausedand
then said "Yes". I suspected that he was lying. It was necessary for me to see Mademoiselle Marthe
before he could put her on her guard. Three little words gave me the information I wanted. When I
asked her if she knew that Jack Renauld was here that night, she answered, "He told me". Now,
Hastings, what was Jack Renauld doing here on that eventful evening, and if he did not see
MademoiselleMarthewhomdidhesee?'

'Surely,Poirot,'Icried,aghast,'youcannotbelievethataboylikethatwouldmurderhisownfather!'

'Monami,'saidPoirot.'Youcontinuetobeofasentimentalityunbelievable!Ihaveseenmotherswho
murderedtheirlittlechildrenforthesakeoftheinsurancemoney!Afterthat,onecanbelieveanything.'

'Andthemotive?'

'Money of course. Remember that Jack Renauld thought that he would come into half his father's
fortuneatthelatter'sdeath.'

'Butthetramp.Wheredoeshecomein?'

Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.

'Giraud would say that he was an accomplice - an apache who helped young Renauld to commit the
crime,andwhowasconvenientlyputoutofthewayafterwards.'

'Butthehairroundthedagger?Thewoman'shair?'

'Ah!' said Poirot, smiling broadly. 'That is the cream of Giraud's little jest. According to it is not a
woman'shairatall.Rememberthattheyouthsoftodayweartheirhairbrushedstraightbackfromthe
forehead with pomade or hair wash to make it lie flat. Consequently some of the hairs are of
considerablelength.'

'Andyoubelievethattoo?'

'No,' said Poirot, with a curious smile. 'For I know it to be the hair of a woman - and more, which
woman!'

'MadameDaubreuil,'Iannouncedpositively.

'Perhaps,'saidPoirot,regardingmequizically.ButIrefusedtoallowmyselftogetannoyed.

'Whatarewegoingtodonow?'Iasked,asweenteredthehalloftheVillaGeneviève.

'IwishtomakeasearchamongtheeffectsofM.JackRenauld.ThatiswhyIhadtogethimoutofthe
wayforafewhours.'

Neatlyandmethodically,Poirotopenedeachdrawerinturn,examinedthecontents,andreturnedthem
exactlytotheirplaces.Itwasasingularlydullanduninterestingproceeding.Poirotwadedonthrough
collars, pyjamas, and socks. A purring noise outside drew me to the window. Instantly I became
galvanizedintolife.

'Poirot!'Icried.'Acarhasjustdrivenup.Giraudisinit,andJackRenauld,andtwogendarmes.'

'Sacré tonnerre!' growled Poirot. 'That animal of a Giraud, could he not wait? I shall not be able to
replacethethingsinthislastdrawerwiththepropermethod.Letusbequick.'

Unceremoniouslyhetumbledoutthethingsonthefloor,mostlytiesandhandkerchiefs.Suddenly,with
acryoftriumph,Poirotpouncedonsomething,asmallsquareofcard-board,evidentlyaphotograph.
Thrustingitintohispocket,hereturnedthethingspell-melltothedrawer,andseizingmebythearm
draggedmeoutoftheroomanddownthestairs.InthehallstoodGiraud,contemplatinghisprisoner.

'Goodafternoon,MonsieurGiraud,'saidPoirot.'Whathavewehere?'

GiraudnoddedhisheadtowardsJack.

'Hewastryingtomakeagetaway,butIwastoosharpforhim.He'sunderarrestforthemurderofhis
father,MonsieurPaulRenauld.'

Poirotwheeledroundtoconfronttheboy,whowasleaninglimplyagainstthedoor,hisfaceashypale.

'Whatdoyousaytothat,jeunehomme?'

JackRenauldstaredathimstonily.

'Nothing,'hesaid.

Chapter19

IUSEMYGREYCELLS

Iwasdumbfounded.Uptothelast,IhadnotbeenabletobringmyselftobelieveJackRenauldguilty.I
hadexpectedaringingproclamationofhisinnocencewhenPoirotchallengedhim.Butnow,watching
himashestood,whiteandlimpagainstthewall,andhearingthedamningadmissionfallfromhislips,I
doubtednolonger.

ButPoirothadturnedtoGiraud.

'Whatareyourgroundsforarrestinghim?'

'Doyouexpectmetogivethemtoyou?'

'Asamatterofcourtesy,yes.'

Giraud looked at him doubtfully. He was torn between a desire to refuse rudely and the pleasure of
triumphingoverhisadversary.

'YouthinkIhavemadeamistake,Isuppose?'hesneered.

'Itwouldnotsurpriseme,'repliedPoirot,withasoupçonofmalice.

Giraud'sfacetookonadeepertingeofred.

'Ehbien,comeinhere.Youshalljudgeforyourself.'

Heflungopenthedoorofthesalon,andwepassedin,leavingJackRenauldinthecareofthetwoother
men.

'Now,MonsieurPoirot,'saidGiraud,layinghishatonthetable,andspeakingwiththeutmostsarcasm,
'Iwilltreatyoutoalittlelectureondetectivework.Iwillshowhowwemodernswork.'

'Bien!' said Poirot, composing himself to listen. 'I will show you how admirably the Old Guard can
listen.'Andheleanedbackandclosedhiseyes,openingthemforamomenttoremark:'Donotfearthat
Ishallsleep.Iwillattendmostcarefully.'

'Of course,' began Giraud, 'I soon saw through all that Chilean tomfoolery. Two men were in it - but
theywerenotmysteriousforeigners!Allthatwasablind.'

'Very creditable so far, my dear Giraud,' murmured Poirot. 'Especially after that clever trick of theirs
withthematchandcigaretteend.'

Giraudglared,butcontinued.

'Amanmusthavebeenconnectedwiththecase,inordertodigthegrave.Thereisnomanwhoactually
benefits by the crime, but there was a man who thought he would benefit. I heard of Jack Renauld's
quarrel with his father, and of the threats that he had used. The motive was established. Now as to
means.JackRenauldwasinMerlinvillethatnight.Heconcealedthefact-whichturnedsuspicioninto
certainty.Thenwefoundasecondvictim-stabbedwiththesamedagger.Weknowwhenthatdagger
wasstolen.CaptainHastingsherecanfixthetime.JackRenauld,arrivingfromCherbourg,wastheonly
personwhocouldhavetakenit.Ihaveaccountedforalltheothermembersofthehousehold.'

Poirotinterrupted.

'Youarewrong.Thereisoneotherpersonwhocouldhavetakenthedagger.'

'YourefertoMonsieurStonor?Hearrivedatthefrontdoor,inanautomobilewhichhadbroughthim
straightfromCalais.Ah!believeme,Ihavelookedintoeverything.MonsieurJackRenauldarrivedby
train. An hour elapsed between his arrival and the moment when he presented himself at the house.
Withoutdoubt,hesawCaptainHastingsandhiscompanionleavetheshed,slippedinhimselfandtook
thedagger,stabbedhisaccompliceintheshed-'

'Whowasalreadydead!'

Giraudshruggedhisshoulders.

'Possibly he did not observe that. He may have judged him to be sleeping. Without doubt they had a
rendez-vous. In any case he knew this apparent second murder would greatly complicate the case. It
did.'

'ButitcouldnotdeceiveMonsieurGiraud,'murmuredPoirot.

'Youmockatme!ButIwillgiveyouonelastirrefutableproof.MadameRenauld'sstorywasfalse-a
fabrication from beginning to end. We believe Madame Renauld to have loved her husband - yet she
liedtoshieldhismurderer.Forwhomwillawomanlie?Sometimesforherself,usuallyforthemanshe
loves,alwaysforherchildren.Thatisthelast-theirrefutableproof.Youcannotgetroundit.'

Giraudpausedflushedandtriumphant.Poirotregardedhimsteadily.

'Thatismycase,'saidGiraud.'Whathaveyoutosaytoit?'

'Onlythatthereisonethingyouhavefailedtotakeintoaccount.'

'Whatisthat?'

'Jack Renauld was presumably acquainted with the planning out of the golf course. He knew that the
bodywouldbediscoveredalmostatoncewhentheystartedtodigthebunker.'

Giraudlaughedoutloud.

'Butitisidioticwhatyousaythere!Hewantedthebodytobefound!Untilitwasfound,hecouldnot
presumedeathandwouldhavebeenunabletoenterintohisinheritance.'

IsawaquickflashofgreeninPoirot'seyesasherosetohisfeet.

'Thenwhyburyit?'heaskedverysoftly.'Reflect,Giraud.SinceitwastoJackRenauld'sadvantagethat
thebodyshouldhefoundwithoutdelay,whydigagraveatall?'

Giraud did not reply. The question found him unprepared. He shrugged his shoulders as though to
intimatethatitwasofnoimportance.

Poirotmovedtowardsthedoor.Ifollowedhim.

'Thereisonemorethingthatyouhavefailedtotakeintoaccount,'hesaidoverhisshoulder.

'Whatisthat?'

'Thepieceofleadpiping,'saidPoirot,andlefttheroom.

JackRenauldstillstoodinthehall,withawhitedumbface,butaswecameoutofthesalonhelooked
up sharply. At the same moment there was the sound of a footfall on the staircase. Mrs Renauld was
descendingit.Atthesightofherson,standingbetweenthetwomyrmidonsofthelaw,shestoppedas
thoughpetrified.

'Jack,'shefaltered.'Jack,whatisthis?'

Helookedupather,hisfaceset.

'Theyhavearrestedme,mother.'

'What?'

Sheutteredapiercingcry,andbeforeanyonecouldgettoher,swayed,andfellheavily.Webothranto
herandliftedherup.InaminutePoirotstoodupagain.

'Shehascutherheadbadly,onthecornerofthestairs.Ifancythereisslightconcussionalso.IfGiraud
wantsastatementfromher,hewillhavetowait.Shewillprobablybeunconsciousforatleastaweek.'

DeniseandFrançoisehadruntotheirmistress,andleavingherintheirchargePoirotleftthehouse.He
walkedwithhisheaddown,frowningthoughtfully.ForsometimeIdidnotspeak,butatlastIventured
toputaquestiontohim:

'Doyoubelievethen,inspiteofallappearancestothecontrary,thatJackRenauldmaynotbeguilty?'

Poirotdidnotansweratonce,butafteralongwaithesaidgravely:

'I do not know, Hastings. There is just a chance of it. Of course Giraud is all wrong - wrong from
beginning to end. If Jack Renauld is guilty, it is in spite of Giraud's arguments, not because of them.
Andthegravestindictmentagainsthimisknownonlytome.'

'Whatisthat?'Iasked,impressed.

'Ifyouwoulduseyourgreycells,andseethewholecaseclearlyasIdo,youtoowouldperceiveit,my
friend.'

ThiswaswhatIcalledoneofPoirot'sirritatinganswers.Hewenton,withoutwaitingformetospeak:

'Let us walk this way to the sea. We will sit on that little mound there, overlooking the beach, and
reviewthecase.YoushallknowallthatIknow,butIwouldpreferthatyoushouldcomeatthetruthby
yourownefforts-notbymyleadingyoubythehand.'

WeestablishedourselvesonthegrassyknollasPoirothadsuggested,lookingouttosea.

'Think, my friend,' said Poirot's voice encouragingly. 'Arrange your ideas. Be methodical. Be orderly.
Thereisthesecretofsuccess.'

Iendeavouredtoobeyhim,castingmymindbackoverallthedetailsofthecase.AndsuddenlyIstarted
asanideaofbewilderingluminosityshotintomybrain.TremblinglyIbuiltupmyhypothesis.

'Youhavealittleidea,Isee,monami!Capital.Weprogress.'

Isatup,andlitapipe.

'Poirot,'Isaid,'itseemstomewehavebeenstrangelyremiss.Isaywe-althoughIdaresayIwouldbe
nearerthemark.Butyoumustpaythepenaltyofyourdeterminedsecrecy.SoIsayagainwehavebeen
strangelyremiss.Thereissomeonewehaveforgotten.'

'Andwhoisthat?'inquiredPoirot,withtwinklingeyes.

'GeorgesConneau!'

Chapter20

ANAMAZINGSTATEMENT

ThenextmomentPoirotembracedmewarmlyonthecheek.

'Enfin! You have arrived! And all by yourself. It is superb! Continue your reasoning. You are right.
DecidedlywehavedonewrongtoforgetGeorgesConneau.'

I was so flattered by the little man's approval that I could hardly continue. But at last I collected my
thoughtsandwenton.

'GeorgesConneaudisappearedtwentyyearsago,butwehavenoreasontobelievethatheisdead.'

'Aucunement,'agreedPoirot.'Proceed.'

'Thereforewewillassumethatheisalive.'

'Exactly.'

'Orthathewasaliveuntilrecently.'

'Demieuxenmieux!'

'Wewillpresume,'Icontinued,myenthusiasmrising,'thathehasfallenonevildays.Hehasbecomea
criminal,anapache,atramp-awhatyouwill.HechancestocometoMerlinville.Therehefindsthe
womanhehasneverceasedtolove.'

'Careful!Thesentimentality,'warnedPoirot.

'Whereonehatesonealsoloves,'Iquotedormisquoted.'Atanyratehefindsherthere,livingunderan
assumedname.Butshehasanewlover,theEnglishman,Renauld.GeorgesConneau,thememoryof
oldwrongsrisinginhim,quarreledwiththisRenauld.Heliesinwaitforhimashecomestovisithis
mistress, and stabs him in the back. Then, terrified at what he has done, he starts to dig a grave. I
imagine it likely that Madame Daubreuil comes out to look for her lover. She and Conneau have a
terrible scene. He drags her into the shed, and there suddenly falls down in an epileptic fit. Now
supposing Jack Renauld to appear. Madame Daubreuil tells him all, points out to him the dreadful
consequences to her daughter if this scandal of the past is revived. His father's murderer is dead - let
themdotheirbesttohushitup.JackRenauldconsents-goestothehouseandhasaninterviewwithhis
mother, winning her over to his point of view. Primed with the story that Madame Daubreuil has
suggestedtohim,shepermitsherselftobegaggedandbound.There,Poirot,whatdoyouthinkofthat?'

Ileanedback,flushedwiththeprideofsuccessfulreconstruction.

Poirotlookedatmethoughtfully.

'IthinkthatyoushouldwritefortheKinema,monami,'heremarkedatlast.

'Youmean-'

'It would mean a good film, the story that you have recounted to me there - but it bears no sort of
resemblancetoeverydaylife.'

'IadmitthatIhaven'tgoneintoallthedetails,but-'

'Youhavegonefarther-youhaveignoredthemmagnificently.Whataboutthewaythetwomenwere
dressed?Doyousuggestthatafterstabbinghisvictim,Conneauremovedhissuitofclothes,donnedit
himself,andreplacedthedagger?'

'Idon'tseethatthatmatters,'Iobjectedratherhuffily.'Hemayhaveobtainedclothesandmoneyfrom

MadameDaubreuilbythreatsearlierintheday.'

'Bythreats-eh?Youseriouslyadvancethatsupposition?'

'Certainly.HecouldhavethreatenedtorevealheridentitytotheRenaulds,whichwouldprobablyhave
putanendtoallhopesofherdaughter'smarriage.'

'You are wrong, Hastings. He could not blackmail her, for she had the whip-hand. Georges Conneau,
remember,isstillwantedformurder.Awordfromherandheisindangeroftheguillotine.'

Iwasforced,ratherreluctantly,toadmitthetruthofthis.

'Yourtheory,'Iremarkedacidly,'isdoubtlesscorrectastoallthedetails?'

'My theory is the truth,' said Poirot quietly. 'And the truth is necessarily correct. In your theory you
made a fundamental error. You permitted your imagination to lead you astray with midnight
assignations and passionate love scenes. But in investigating crime we must take our stand upon the
commonplace.ShallIdemonstratemymethodstoyou?'

'Oh,byallmeansletushaveademonstration!'

Poirotsatveryuprightandbeganwagginghisforefingeremphaticallytoemphasizehispoints:

'I will start as you started from the basic fact of Georges Conneau. Now the story told by Madame
Beroldyincourtastothe"Russians"wasadmittedlyafabrication.Ifshewasinnocentofconnivancein
the crime, it was concocted by her, and by her only as she stated. If, on the other hand, she was not
innocent,itmighthavebeeninventedbyeitherherorGeorgesConneau.

'Now,inthiscaseweareinvestigating,wemeetthesametale.AsIpointedouttoyou,thefactsrender
itveryunlikelythatMadameDaubreuilinspiredit.Soweturntothehypothesisthatthestoryhadits
origin in the brain of Georges Conneau. Very good. Georges Conneau, therefore, planned the crime,
withMrsRenauldashisaccomplice.Sheisinthelimelight,andbehindherisashadowyfigurewhose
presentaliasisunknowntous.

'NowletusgocarefullyovertheRenauldCasefromthebeginning,settingdowneachsignificantpoint
initschronologicalorder.Youhaveanotebookandpencil?Good.Nowwhatistheearliestpointtonote

down?'

'Thelettertoyou?'

'Thatwasthefirstweknewofit,butitisnottheproperbeginningofthecase.Thefirstpointofany
significance, I should say, is the change that came over Monsieur Renauld shortly after arriving in
Merlinville,andwhichisattestedtobyseveralwitnesses.Wehavealsotoconsiderhisfriendshipwith
Madame Daubreuil, and the large sums of pounds he paid over to her. From thence we can come
directlytothe23rdMay.'

Poirotpaused,clearedhisthroat,andsignedtometowrite:

'23rdMay.M.Renauldquarrelswithhissonoverlatter'swishtomarryMartheDaubreuil.Sonleaves
forParis.

'24thMay.M.Renauldaltershiswillleavingentirecontrolofhisfortuneinhiswife'shands.

'7thJune.Quarrelwithtrampingarden,witnessedbyMartheDaubreuil.

'LetterwrittentoM.HerculePoirot,imploringassistance.

'TelegramsenttoM.JackRenauld,biddinghimproceedbytheAnzoratoBuenosAyres.

'Chauffeur,Masters,sentoffonaholiday.

'Visitofaladythatevening.Asheisseeingherout,wordsare"Yes,yes-butforGod'ssakegonow."'

Poirotpaused.

'There, Hastings, take each of those facts one by one, consider them carefully by themselves and in
relationtothewhole,andseeifyoudonotgetnewlightonthematter.'

Iendeavouredconscientiouslytodoashehadsaid.Afteramomentortwo,Isaidratherdoubtfully:

'As to the first points, the question seems to be whether we adopt the theory of blackmail, or of an
infatuationforthiswoman.'

'Blackmail,decidedly.YouheardwhatStonorsaidastohischaracterandhabits.'

'MrsRenaulddidnotconfirmhisview,'Iargued.

'We have already seen that Madame Renauld's testimony cannot be relied upon in any way. We must
trusttoStonoronthatpoint.'

'Still,ifRenauldhadanaffairwithawomancalledBella,thereseemsnoinherentimprobabilityinhis
havinganotherwithMadameDaubreuil.'

'Nonewhatever,Igrantyou,Hastings.Butdidhe?'

'Theletter,Poirot.Youforgettheletter.'

'No,Idonotforget.ButwhatmakesyouthinkthatletterwaswrittentoMonsieurRenauld?'

'Why,itwasfoundinhispocket,and-and-'

'And that is all!' cut in Poirot. 'There was no mention of any name to show to whom the letter was
addressed.Weassumeditwastothedeadmanbecauseitwasinthepocketofhisovercoat.Now,mon
ami, something about that overcoat struck me as unusual. I measured it and made the remark that he
worehisovercoatverylong.Thatremarkshouldhavegivenyoutothink.'

'Ithoughtyouwerejustsayingitforthesakeofsayingsomething,'Iconfessed.

'Ah, quelle idée! Later you observed me measuring the overcoat of Monsieur Jack Renauld. Eh bien,
MonsieurJackRenauldwearshisovercoatveryshort.Putthosetwofactstogetherwithathird,namely,
"thatMonsieurJackRenauldflungoutofthehouseinahurryonhisdepartureforParis,andtellme
whatyoumakeofit!"

'Isee,'Isaidslowly,asthemeaningofPoirot'sremarksboreinuponme.'ThatletterwaswrittentoJack

Renauld-nottohisfather.Hecaughtupthewrongovercoatinhishasteandagitation.'

Poirotnodded.

'Précisément!Wecanreturntothispointlater.Forthemomentletuscontentourselveswithaccepting
theletterashavingnothingtodowithMonsieurRenauldpère,andpasstothenextchronologicalevent.'

'"23rdMay,"'Iread.'"M.Renauldquarrelswithhissonoverlatter'swishtomarryMartheDaubreuil.
SonleavesforParis."Idon'tseeanythingmuchtoremarkuponthere,andthealteringofthewillthe
followingdayseemsstraightforwardenough.Itwasthedirectresultofthequarrel.'

'Weagree,monami,atleastastothecause.ButwhatexactmotiveunderlaythisprocedureofMonsieur
Renauld's?'

Iopenedmyeyesinsurprise.

'Angeragainsthissonofcourse.'

'YethewrotehimaffectionateletterstoParis?'

'SoJackRenauldsays,buthecannotproducethem.'

'Well,letuspassfromthat.'

'Nowwecometothedayofthetragedy.Youhaveplacedtheeventofthemorninginacertainorder.
Haveyouanyjustificationforthat?'

'I have ascertained that the letter to me was posted at the same time as the telegram was dispatched.
Masters was informed he could take a holiday shortly afterwards. In my opinion the quarrel with the
tramptookplaceanteriortothesehappenings.'

'IdonotseethatyoucanfixthatdefinitelyunlessyouquestionMademoiselleDaubreuilagain.'

'Thereisnoneed.Iamsureofit.Andifyoudonotseethat,youseenothing,Hastings.'

Ilookedathimforamoment.

'Ofcourse!Iamanidiot.IfthetrampwasGeorgesConneau,itwasafterthestormyinterviewwithhim
thatMrRenauldapprehendeddanger.Hesentawaythechauffeur,Masters,whomhesuspectedofbeing
intheother'spay,hewiredtohisson,andsentforyou.'

AfaintsmilecrossedPoirot'slips.

'You do not think it strange that he should use exactly the same expressions in his letter as Madame
Renauldusedlaterinherstory?IfthementionofSantiagowasablind,whyshouldRenauldspeakofit,
and-whatismore-sendhissonthere?'

'Itispuzzling,Iadmit,butperhapsweshallfindsomeexplanationlater.Wecomenowtotheevening,
andthevisitofthemysteriouslady.Iconfessthatthatfairlybafflesme,unlessitwasindeedMadame
Daubreuil,asFrançoiseallalongmaintained.'

Poirotshookhishead.

'Myfriend,myfriend,whereareyourwitswandering?Rememberthefragmentofcheque,andthefact
thatthenameBellaDuveenwasfaintlyfamiliartoStonor,andIthinkwemaytakeitforgrantedthat
BellaDuveenisthefullnameofJack'sunknowncorrespondent,andthatitwasshewhocametothe
VillaGenevièvethatnight.WhethersheintendedtoseeJack,orwhethershemeantallalongtoappeal
tohisfather,wecannotbecertain,butIthinkwemayassumethatthisiswhatoccurred.Sheproduced
herclaimuponJack,probablyshowedlettersthathehadwrittenher,andtheoldermantriedtobuyher
off by writing a cheque. This she indignantly tore up. The terms of her letter are those of a woman
genuinelyinlove,andshewouldprobablydeeplyresentbeingofferedmoney.Intheendhegotridof
her,andherethewordsthatheusedaresignificant.'

'"Yes,yes,butforGod'ssakegonow",'Irepeated.'Theyseemtomealittlevehement,perhaps,thatis
all.'

'That is enough. He was desperately anxious for the girl to go. Why? Not because the interview was
unpleasant.No,itwasthetimethatwasslippingby,andforsomereasontimewasprecious.'

'Whyshoulditbe?'Iasked,bewildered.

'That is what we ask ourselves. Why should it be? But later we have the incident of the wristwatch -
whichagainshowsusthattimeplaysaveryimportantpartinthecrime.Wearenowfastapproaching
theactualdrama.ItishalfpasttenwhenBellaDuveenleaves,andbytheevidenceofthewristwatchwe
knowthatthecrimewascommitted,oratanyratethatitwasstaged,beforetwelveo'clock.Wehave
reviewed all the events anterior to the murder, there remains only one unplaced. By the doctor's
evidence,thetramp,whenfound,hadbeendeadatleastforty-eighthours-withapossiblemarginof
twenty-fourhoursmore.Now,withnootherfactstohelpmethanthosewehavediscussed,Iplacethe
deathashavingoccurredonthemorningof7thJune.

Istaredathim,stupefied.

'Buthow?Why?Howcanyoupossiblyknow?'

'Becauseonlyinthatwaycanthesequenceofeventsbelogicallyexplained.Monami,Ihavetakenyou
stepbystepalongtheway.Doyounotnowseewhatissoglaringlyplain?'

'MydearPoirot,Ican'tseeanythingglaringaboutit.IdidthinkIwasbeginningtoseemywaybefore,
butI'mnowhopelesslyfogged.Forgoodness'sake,geton,andtellmewhokilledMrRenauld.'

'ThatisjustwhatIamnotsureofasyet.'

'Butyousaiditwasglaringlyclear?

'Wetalkatcross-purposes,myfriend.Remember,itistwocrimesweareinvestigating-forwhichasI
pointedouttoyou,wehavethenecessarytwobodies.There-there,nevousimpatientezpas!Iexplain
all.Tobeginwith,weapplyourpsychology.WefindthreepointsatwhichMonsieurRenaulddisplaysa
distinctchangeofviewandaction-threepsychologicalpointstherefore.Thefirstoccursimmediately
afterarrivinginMerlinville,thesecondafterquarrellingwithhissononacertainsubject,thethirdon
the morning of 7th June. Now for the three causes. We can attribute No 1 to meeting Madame
Daubreuil. No 2 is indirectly connected with her, since it concerns a marriage between Monsieur
Renauld's son and her daughter. But the cause of No 3 is hidden from us. We had to deduce it. Now,
monami,letmeaskyouaquestion:whomdowebelievetohaveplannedthiscrime?'

'GeorgesConneau,'Isaiddoubtfully,eyeingPoirot.

'Exactly.NowGiraudlaiditdownasanaxiomthatawomanliestosaveherself,themansheloves,and
herchild.AswearesatisfiedthatitwasGeorgesConneauwhodidlietoher,andasGeorgesConneau
is not Jack Renauld, it follows that the third case is out of court. Attributing the crime to Georges

Conneau,thefirstisequallyso.Soweareforcedtothesecondpossibility-thatMadamRenauldlied
forthesakeofthemansheloved-orinotherwords,forthesakeofGeorgesConneau.Youagree?'

'Yes,'Iadmitted.'Itseemslogicalenough.'

'Bien!MadameRenauldlovesGeorgesConneau.Who,then,isGeorgesConneau?'

'Thetramp.'

'DowehaveanyevidencetoshowthatMadameRenauldlovedthetramp?'

'No,but-'

'Very well, then. Do not cling to theories where facts don't support them. Ask yourself instead whom
MadameRenauldloved.'

Ishookmyheadperplexed.

'Maisoui,youknowperfectly.WhomdidMadamelovesodearly,thatwhenshesawhisdeadbodyshe
sankinaswoon?'

Iwasdumbfounded.'Herhusband?'Igasped.

Poirotnodded.

'Herhusband-orGeorgesConneauwhicheveryouliketocallhimyourself.'

'Butit'simpossible.'

'How"impossible"?DidwenotagreejustnowthatMadameDaubreuilwasinapositiontoblackmail
GeorgesConneau?'

'Yesbut-'

'AnddidshenotveryeffectivelyblackmailMonsieurRenauld?'

'Thatmayhetrueenough,but-'

'AndisitnotafactthatweknownothingofMonsieurRenauld'syouthandupbringing?Thathesprings
suddenlyintoexistenceasaFrench-Canadianexactlytwenty-twoyearsago?'

'Allthatisso,'Isaidmorefirmly,'butyouseemtometobeoverlookingonesalientpoint.'

'Whatisthat,myfriend?'

'Why,wehaveadmittedthatGeorgesplannedthecrime.Thatbringsustotheridiculousstatementthat
heplannedhisownmurder!'

'Ehbien,monami,'saidPoirotplacidly,'thatisjustwhathediddo!'

Chapter21

HERCULEPOIROTONTHECASE

InameasuredvoicePoirotbeganhisexposition.

'Itseemsstrangetoyou,monami,thatamanshouldplanhisowndeath?Sostrange,thatyoupreferto
reject the truth as fantastic, and to revert to a story that is in reality ten times more impossible. Yes,
MonsieurRenauldplannedhisowndeathbutthereisonedetailthatperhapsescapesyou-hedidnot
intendtodie.'

Ishookmyheadbewildered.

'Butno,itisallmostsimplereally,'saidPoirotkindly.'ForthecrimethatMonsieurRenauldproposed,a
murdererwasnotnecessary,asItoldyou,butabodywas.Letusreconstruct,seeingeventsthistime
fromadifferentangle.

'GeorgesConneaufliesfromjustice-toCanada.There,underanassumedname,hemarries,andfinally
acquiresavastfortuneinSouthAmerica.Butthereisanostalgiauponhimforhisowncountry.Twenty
years have elapsed, he is considerably changed in appearance, besides being a man of such eminence
thatnooneislikelytoconnecthimwithafugitivefromjusticemanyyearsago.Hedeemsitquitesafe
toreturn.HetakesuphisheadquartersinEngland,buttendstospendthesummersinFrance.Andill
fortune, or that obscure justice which shapes men's ends and will not allow them to evade the
consequences of their acts, takes him to Merlinville. There, in the whole of France, is the one person
whoiscapableofrecognizinghim.Itis,ofcourse,agoldminetoMadameDaubreuil,andagoldmine
ofwhichsheisnotslowtotakeadvantage.Heishelpless-absolutelyinherpower.Andshebleedshim
heavily.

'Andthentheinevitablehappens.JackRenauldfallsinlovewiththebeautifulgirlheseesalmostdaily
and wishes to marry her. That rouses his father. At all costs, he will prevent his son marrying the
daughter of this evil woman. Jack Renauld knows nothing of his father's past, but Madame Renauld
knowseverything.Sheisawomanofgreatforceofcharacterandpassionatelydevotedtoherhusband.
They take counsel together. Renauld sees only one way of escape - death. He must appear to die, in
reality escaping to another country where he will start again under an assumed name and where
Madame Renauld, having played the widow's part for a while, can join him. It is essential that she
shouldhavecontrolofthemoney,sohealtershiswill.Howtheymeanttomanagethebodybusiness
originally,Idonotknow-possiblyanartstudent'sskeletonandafire-orsomethingofthekind,but
long before their plans have matured an event occurs which plays into their hands. A rough tramp,
violentandabusive,findshiswayintothegarden.Thereisastruggle,Renauldseekstoejecthim,and
suddenlythetramp,anepileptic,fallsdowninafit.Heisdead.Renauldcallshiswife.Togetherthey
drag him into the shed - as we know the event had occurred just outside - and they realize the
marvellousopportunitythathasbeenvouchsafedthem.ThemanbearsnoresemblancetoRenauldbut
heismiddle-aged,ofausualFrenchtype.Thatissufficient.

'I rather fancy that they sat on the bench up there, out of earshot from the house, discussing matters.
Theirplanwasquicklymade.TheidentificationmustrestsolelyonMadameRenauld'sevidence.Jack
Renauldandthechauffeur(whohadbeenwithhismastertwoyears)mustbegotoutoftheway.Itwas
unlikelythattheFrenchwomenservantswouldgonearthebody,andinanycaseRenauldintendedto
take measures to deceive anyone not likely to appreciate details. Masters was sent off, a telegram
dispatchedtoJack,BuenosAyresbeingselectedtogivecredencetothestorythatRenauldhaddecided
upon.Havingheardofmeasaratherobscureelderlydetective,hewrotehisappealforhelp,knowing
that when I arrived, the production of the letter would have a profound effect upon the examining
magistrate-which,ofcourse,itdid.

'TheydressedthebodyofthetrampinasuitofRenauld'sandlefthisraggedcoatandtrousersbythe
dooroftheshed,notdaringtotakethemintothehouse.Andthen,togivecredencetothetaleMadame
Renauld was to tell, they drove the aeroplane dagger through his heart. That night Renauld will first
bindandgaghiswife,andthen,takingaspade,willdigagraveinthatparticularplotofgroundwhere
heknowsa-howdoyoucallit?-bunkair?istobemade.Itisessentialthatthebodyshouldbefound-
MadameDaubreuilmusthavenosuspicions.Ontheotherhand,ifalittletimeelapses,anydangersas
to identity will be greatly lessened. Then, Renauld will don the tramp's rags, and shuffle off to the
station, where he will leave, unnoticed, by the train. Since the crime will be supposed to have taken
placetwohourslater,nosuspicioncanpossiblyattachtohim.

'Youseenowhisannoyanceattheinopportunevisitofthegirl,Bella.Everymomentofdelayisfatalto
hisplans.Hegetsridofherassoonashecan,however.Then,towork!Heleavesthefrontdoorslightly
ajartocreatetheimpressionthatassassinsleftthatway.HebindsandgagsMadameRenauld,correcting
hismistakeoftwenty-twoyearsago,whentheloosenessofthebondscausedsuspiciontofalluponhis
accomplice,butleavingherprimedwithessentiallythesamestoryashehadinventedbefore,proving
theunconsciousrecoilofthemindagainstoriginality.Thenightischilly,andheslipsonanovercoat
over his under-clothing, intending to cast it into the grave with the dead man. He goes out by the
window, smoothing over the flower-bed carefully, and thereby furnishing the most positive evidence
againsthimself.Hegoesoutontothelonelygolflinks,andhedigs-Andthen-'

'Yes?'

'Andthen,'saidPoirotgravely,'thejusticethathehassolongeludedovertakeshim.Anunknownhand
stabshimintheback.No,Hastings,youunderstandwhatImeanwhenItalkoftwocrimes.Thefirst
crime,thecrimethatMonsieurRenauld,inhisarrogancesaskedustoinvestigate,issolved.Butbehind
itliesadeeperriddle.Andtosolvethatwillbedifficult-sincethecriminal,inhiswisdom,hasbeen
contenttoavailhimselfofthedevicespreparedbyRenauld.Ithasbeenaparticularlyperplexingand
bafflingmysterytosolve.'

'You're marvellous, Poirot,' I said, with admiration. 'Absolutely marvellous. No one on earth but you
wouldhavedoneit!'

Ithinkmypraisepleasedhim.Foronceinhislifehelookedalmostembarrassed.

'That poor Giraud,' said Poirot, trying unsuccessfully to look modest. 'Without doubt it is not all
stupidity. He has had la mauvaise chance once or twice. That dark hair coiled round the dagger, for
instance.Tosaytheleast,itwasmisleading.'

'Totellyouthetruth,Poirot,'Isaidslowly,'evennowIdon'tquitesee-whosehairwasit?'

'MadameRenauld's,ofcourse.Thatiswherelamauvaisechancecamein.Herhair,darkoriginally,is
almostcompletelysilvered.Itmightjustaseasilyhavebeenagreyhair-andthen,bynoconceivable
effort could Giraud have persuaded himself it came from the head of Jack Renauld! But it is all of a
piece;alwaysthefactsmustbetwistedtofitthetheory!

'Without doubt, when Madame Renauld recovers, she will speak. The possibility of her son being
accused of the murder never occurred to her. How should it, when she believed him safely at sea on
board the Anzora? Ah! voilà une femme, Hastings! What force, what self-command! She only made
oneslip.Onhisunexpectedreturn:"Itdoesnotmatter-now."Andnoonenoticed-noonerealizedthe
significanceofthosewords.Whataterriblepartshehashadtoplay,poorwoman.Imaginetheshock
whenshegoestoidentifythebodyand,insteadofwhatsheexpects,seestheactuallifelessformofthe
husbandshehasbelievedmilesawaybynow.Nowondershefainted!Butsincethen,despitehergrief
andherdespair,howresolutelyshehasplayedherpartandhowtheanguishofitmustwringher.She
cannotsayawordtosetusonthetrackoftherealmurderers.Forherson'ssakenoonemustknowthat
PaulRenauldwasGeorgesConneau,thecriminal.Finalandmostbitterblow,shehasadmittedpublicly
thatMadameDaubreuilwasherhusband'smistress-forahintofblackmailmightbefataltohersecret.
Howcleverlyshedealtwilltheexaminingmagistratewhenheaskedheriftherewasanymysteryinher
husband'spastlife."NothingsoromanticIamsure,monsieur!"Itwasperfect,theindulgenttone,the
soupçonofsadmockery.AtonceMonsieurHautetfelthimselffoolishandmelodramatic.Yes,sheisa
greatwoman!Ifshelovedacriminal,shelovedhimroyally.'

Poirotlosthimselfincontemplation.

'OnethingmorePoirot-whataboutthepieceoflead-piping?'

'Youdonotsee?Todisfigurethevictim'sfacesothatitwouldbeunrecognizable.Itwasthatwhichfirst
setmeontherighttrack.AndthatimbecileofaGiraud,swarmingalloverittolookformatchends!
Did I not tell you that a clue of two foot long was quite as good as a clue of two inches? You see,
Hastings, we must now start again. Who killed Monsieur Renauld? Someone who was near the Villa
just before twelve o'clock that night - someone who would benefit by his death - the description fits
JackRenauldonlytoowell.Thecrimeneednothavebeenpremeditated.Andthenthedagger!'

Istarted,Ihadnotrealizedthatpoint.

'Ofcourse,'Isaid,'MrsRenauld'sdaggerwasthesecondonewefoundinthetramp.Thereweretwo,
then?'

'Certainly,and,sincetheywereduplicates,itstandstoreasonthatJackRenauldwastheowner.Butthat
wouldnottroublemesomuch.Infact,Ihadalittleideaastothat.No,theworstindictmentagainsthim
isagainpsychological-heredity,monami,heredity!Likefather,likeson-JackRenauld,whenallis
saidordone,isthesonofGeorgesConneau.'

HistonewasgraveandearnestandIwasimpressedinspiteofmyself.

'Whatisyourlittleideathatyoumentionedjustnow?'Iasked.

Foranswer,Poirotconsultedhisturnip-facedwatch,andthenasked:

'WhattimeistheafternoonboatfromCalais?'

'Aboutfive,Ibelieve.'

'Thatwilldoverywell.Weshalljusthavetime.'

'YouaregoingtoEngland?'

'Yes,myfriend.'

'Why?'

'Tofindapossible-witness.'

'Who?'

Witharatherpeculiarsmileuponhisface,Poirotreplied:

'MissBellaDuveen.'

'Buthowwillyoufindher-whatdoyouknowabouther?'

'I know nothing about her - but I can guess a good deal. We may take it for granted that her name is
Bella Duveen, and since that name was faintly familiar to Monsieur Stonor, though evidently not in
connectionwiththeRenauldfamily,itisprobablethatsheisonthestage.JackRenauldwasayoung
manwithplentyofmoney,andtwentyyearsofage.Thestageissuretohavebeenthehomeofhisfirst
love.Ittallies,too,withMonsieurRenauld'sattempttoplacateherwithacheque.IthinkIshallfindher
allright-especiallywiththehelpofthis!'

Andhe brought outthe photograph Ihad seen him takefrom Jack Renauld'sdrawer. 'With love from
Bella,'wasscrawledacrossthecorner,butitwasnotthatwhichheldmyeyesfascinated.Thelikeness
was not first rate - but for all that it was unmistakable to me. I felt a cold sinking, as though some
unutterablecalamityhadbefallenme.

ItwasthefaceofCinderella.

Chapter22

IFINDLOVE

ForamomentortwoIsatasthoughfrozen,thephotographstillinmyhand.Thensummoningallmy
couragetoappearunmoved,Ihandeditback.AtthesametimeIstoleaquickglanceatPoirot.Hadhe
noticedanything?Buttomyreliefhedidnotseemtobeobservingme.Anythingunusualinmymanner
hadcertainlyescapedhim.

Herosebrisklytohisfeet.

'Wehavenotimetolose.Wemustmakeourdeparturewithalldispatch.Alliswell-thesea,itwillbe
calm!'

Inthebustleofdeparture,Ihadnotimeforthinking,butonceonboardtheboat,securefromPoirot's
observation, I pulled myself together, and attacked the facts dispassionately. How much did Poirot
know, and why was he bent on finding this girl? Did he suspect her of having seen Jack Renauld
committhecrime?Ordidhesuspect-Butthatwasimpossible!Thegirlhadnogrudgeagainsttheelder
Renauld, no possible motive for wishing his death. What had brought her back to the scene of the
murder?Iwentoverthefactscarefully.ShemusthaveleftthetrainatCalaiswhereIpartedfromher
thatday.NowonderIhadbeenunabletofindherontheboat.IfshehaddinedinCalais,andthentaken
a train out to Merlinville, she would have arrived at the Villa Geneviève just about the time that
Françoisesaid.Whathadshedonewhensheleftthehousejustafterten?Presumablyeithergonetoan
hotel,orreturnedtoCalais.Andthen?ThecrimehadbeencommittedonTuesdaynight.OnThursday
morning she was once more in Merlinville. Had she ever left France at all? I doubted it very much.
Whatkeptherthere-thehopeofseeingJackRenauld?Ihadtoldher(asatthetimewebelieved)that
he was on the high seas en route to Buenos Ayres. Possibly she was aware that the Anzora had not

sailed.ButtoknowthatshemusthaveseenJack.WasthatwhatPoirotwasafter?HadJackRenauld,
returning to see Marthe Daubreuil, come face to face instead with Bella Duveen, the girl he had
heartlesslythrownover?

Ibegantoseedaylight.Ifthatwereindeedthecase,itmightfurnishJackwiththealibiheneeded.Yet
under those circumstances his silence seemed difficult to explain. Why could he not have spoken out
boldly? Did he fear for this former entanglement of his to come to the ears of Marthe Daubreuil? I
shookmyhead,dissatisfied.Theflirtinghadbeenharmlessenough,afoolishboy-and-girlaffair,andI
reflectedcynicallythatthesonofamillionairewasnotlikelytobethrownoverbyapennilessFrench
girl,whomoreoverlovedhimdevotedly,withoutamuchgravercause.

Poirot reappeared brisk and smiling at Dover, and our journey to London was uneventful. It was past
nineo'clockwhenwearrived,andIsupposedthatweshouldreturnstraightawaytoourroomsanddo
nothingtillthemorning.

ButPoirothadotherplans.

'Wemustlosenotime,monami.ThenewsofthearrestwillnotbeintheEnglishpapersuntiltheday
aftertomorrow,butstillwemustlosenotime.'

Ididnotquitefollowhisreasoning,butImerelyaskedhowheproposedtofindthegirl.

'YourememberJosephAarons,thetheatricalagent?No?IassistedhiminalittlematterofaJapanese
wrestler.Aprettylittleproblem,Imustrecountittoyouoneday.He,withoutdoubt,willbeabletoput
usinthewayoffindingoutwhatwewanttoknow.'

IttookussometimetorunMrAaronstoearth,anditwasaftermidnightwhenwefinallymanagedit.
HegreetedPoirotwitheveryevidenceofwarmth,andprofessedhimselfreadytobeofservicetousin
anyway.

'There'snotmuchabouttheprofessionIdon'tknow,'hesaid,beaminggenially.

'Ehbien,MonsieurAarons,IdesiretofindayounggirlcalledBellaDuveen.'

'BellaDuveen.Iknowthename,butforamomentIcan'tplaceit.What'sherline?'

'ThatIdonotknow-buthereisherphotograph.'

MrAaronsstudieditforamoment,thenhisfacelighted.

'Gotit!'Heslappedhisthigh.'TheDulcibellaKids,bytheLord!'

'TheDulcibellaKids?'

'That'sit.They'resisters.Acrobats,dancers,andsingers.Givequiteagoodlittlenumber.They'reinthe
provinces,somewhere,Ibelieve-ifthey'renotresting.They'vebeenoninParisforthelasttwoorthree
weeks.'

'Canyoufindoutformeexactlywheretheyare?'

'Easyasabird.Yougohome,andI'llsendyouroundthedopeinthemorning.'

With this promise we took leave of him. He was as good as his word. About eleven o'clock the
followingday,ascribblednotereachedus.

'TheDulcibellaSistersareonatthePalaceinCoventry.Goodlucktoyou.'

Without more ado, we started for Coventry. Poirot made no inquiries at the theatre, but contented
himselfwithbookingstallsforthevarietyperformancethatevening.

The show was wearisome beyond words - or perhaps it was only my mood that made it seem so.
Japanesefamiliesbalanced themselvesprecariously,would-be fashionablemen,in agreenishevening
dressandexquisitelyslickedhair,reeledoffsocietypatteranddancedmarvellously.Stoutprimadonnas
sangatthetopofthehumanregister,acomiccomedianendeavouredtobeMrGeorgeRobeyandfailed
signally.AtlastthenumberwentupwhichannouncedtheDulcibellaKids.Myheartbeatsickeningly.
Thereshewas-theretheybothwere,thepairofthem,oneflaxen-haired,onedark,matchingastosize,
with short fluffy skirts and immense 'Buster Brown' bows. They looked a pair of extremely piquant
children. They began to sing. Their voices were fresh and true, rather thin and music-hally, but
attractive.Itwasquiteaprettylittleturn.Theydancedneatly,anddidsomecleverlittleacrobaticfeats.
Thewordsoftheirsongswerecrispandcatchy.Whenthecurtainfell,therewasafullhandofapplause.
EvidentlytheDulcibellaKidswereasuccess.

SuddenlyIfeltthatIcouldremainnolonger.Imustgetoutintotheair.IsuggestedleavingtoPoirot.

'Gobyallmeans,monami.Iamusemyself,andwillstaytotheend.Iwillrejoinyoulater.'

Itwasonlyafewstepsfromthetheatretothehotel.Iwentuptothesitting-room,orderedawhiskyand
soda,andsatdrinkingit,staringmeditativelyintotheemptygrate.Iheardthedooropen,andturnedmy
head,thinkingitwasPoirot.ThenIjumpedtomyfeet.ItwasCinderellawhostoodinthedoorway.She
spokehaltingly,herbreathcominginlittlegasps.

'Isawyouinfront.Youandyourfriend.Whenyougotuptogo,Iwaswaitingoutsideandfollowed
you.Whyareyouhere-inCoventry?Whatwereyoudoingtheretonight?Isthemanwhowaswithyou
the-thedetective?'

Shestoodthere,thecloakshehadwrappedroundherstagedressslippingfromhershoulders.Isawthe
whiteness of her cheeks under the rouge, and heard the terror in her voice. And in that moment I
understoodeverything-understoodwhyPoirotwasseekingher,andwhatshefearedandunderstoodat
lastmyownheart.

'Yes,'Isaidgently.

'Ishelookingfor-me?'shehalfwhispered.

Then,asIdidnotanswerforamoment,sheslippeddownbythebigchair,andburstintoviolentbitter
weeping.

Ikneltdownbyher,holdingherinmyarms,andsmoothingthehairbackfromherface.

'Don'tcry,child,don'tcry,forGod'ssake.You'resafehere.I'lltakecareofyou.Don'tcry,darling.Don't
cry.Iknow-Iknoweverything.'

'Oh,butyoudon't!'

'IthinkIdo.'Andafteramoment,ashersobsgrewquieter,Iasked:'Itwasyouwhotookthedagger,
wasn'tit?'

'Yes.'

'Thatwaswhyyouwantedmetoshowyouround?Andwhyyoupretendedtofaint?'

Againshenodded.

'Whydidyoutakethedagger?'Iaskedpresently.

Sherepliedassimplyasachild:

'Iwasafraidtheremightbefinger-marksonit.'

'Butdidn'tyourememberthatyouhadworngloves?'

Sheshookherheadasthoughbewildered,andthensaidslowly:

'Areyougoingtogivemeupto-tothepolice?'

'GoodGod!no.'

Hereyessoughtminelongandearnestly,andthensheaskedinalittlequietvoicethatsoundedafraidof
itself:

'Whynot?'

It seemed a strange place and a strange time for a declaration of love - and God knows, in all my
imagining,Ihadneverpicturedlovecomingtomeinsuchaguise.ButIansweredsimplyandnaturally
enough:

'BecauseIloveyou,Cinderella.'

Shebentherheaddown,asthoughashamed,andmutteredinabrokenvoice:

'Youcan't-youcan't-notifyouknew-'Andthen,asthoughrallyingherself,shefacedmesquarely,
andasked,'Whatdoyouknow,then?'

'I know that you came to see M. Renauld that night. He offered you a cheque and you tore it up
indignantly.Thenyouleftthehouse-'Ipaused.

'Goon-whatnext?'

'I don't know whether you knew that Jack Renauld would be coming that night, or whether you just
waited about on the chance of seeing him, but you wait about. Perhaps you were just miserable and
walkedrestlessly-butatanyrate-

'Justbeforetwelveyouwerestillthere,andyousawamanonthegolflinks-'

Again I paused. I had leaped to the truth in a flash as she entered the room, but now the picture rose
beforemeevenmoreconvincingly.Isawvividlythepeculiarpatternoftheovercoatonthedeadbody
of Mr Renauld, and I remembered the amazing likeness that had startled me into believing for one
instantthatthedeadmanhadrisenfromthedeadwhenhissonburstintoourconclaveinthesalon.

'Goon,'repeatedthegirlsteadily.

'Ifancyhisbackwastoyou,butyourecognizedhim,orthoughtyourecognizedhim,thegaitandthe
carriage were familiar to you, and the pattern of his overcoat -' I paused. You used a threat in one of
yourletterstoJackRenauld.Whenyousawhimthere,yourangerandjealousydroveyoumad-and
youstruck.Idon'tbelieveforaminutethatyoumeanttokillhim,butyoudidkillhim,Cinderella.'

Shehadflungupherhandstocoverherface,andinachokedvoiceshesaid:

'You'reright...you'reright.Icanseeitallasyoutellit.'Thensheturnedonmealmostsavagely.'And
youloveme?Knowingwhatyoudo,howcanyouloveme?'

'Idon'tknow,'Isaidalittlewearily.'Ithinkloveislikethat-athingonecannothelp.Ihavetried,I
know-eversincethefirstdayImetyou.Andlovehasbeentoostrongforme.'

Andthensuddenly,whenIleastexpectedit,shebrokedownagain,castingherselfdownonthefloor

andsobbingwildly.

'Oh,Ican't!'shecried.'Idon'tknowwhattodo.Idon'tknowwhichwaytoturn.Oh,pityme,pityme,
someone,andtellmewhattodo!'

AgainIkneltbyher,soothingherasbestIcould.

'Don'tbeafraidofme,Bella.ForGod'ssakedon'tbeafraidofme.Iloveyou,that'strue-butIdon't
wantanythinginreturn.Onlyletmehelpyou.Lovehimstillifyouhaveto,butletmehelpyou,ashe
can't.'

It was as though she had been turned to stone by my words. She raised her head from her hands and
staredatme.

'Youthinkthat?'shewhispered.'YouthinkthatIloveJackRenauld?'

Then,halflaughing,halfcrying,sheflungherarmspassionatelyroundmyneck,andpressedhersweet
wetfacetomine.

'NotasIloveyou,'shewhispered.'NeverasIloveyou!'

Herlipsbrushedmycheek,andthen,seekingmymouth,kissedmeagainandagainwithasweetness
andfirebeyondbelief.Thewildnessofit-andthewonder,Ishallnotforget-no,notaslongasIlive!

Itwasasoundinthedoorwaythatmadeuslookup.

Poirotwasstandingtherelookingatus.

Ididnothesitate.WithaboundIreachedhimandpinionedhisarmstohissides.

'Quick,'Isaidtothegirl.'Getoutofhere.Asfastasyoucan.I'llholdhim.'

Withonelookatme,shefledoutoftheroompastus.IheldPoirotinagripofiron.

'Monami,'observedthelattermildly,'youdothissortofthingverywell.Thestrongmanholdsmein
hisgraspandIamhelplessasachild.Butallthisisuncomfortableandslightlyridiculous.Letussit
downandbecalm.'

'Youwon'tpursueher?'

'MonDieu,no.AmIGiraud?Releaseme,myfriend.'

Keepingasuspiciouseyeuponhim,forIpaidPoirotthecomplimentofknowingthatIwasnomatch
forhiminastuteness,Irelaxedmygrip,andhesankintoanarmchair,feelinghisarmstenderly.

'Itisthatyouhavethestrengthofabullwhenyouareroused,Hastings!Ehbien,anddoyouthinkyou
havebehavedwelltoyouroldfriend?Ishowyouthegirl'sphotographandyourecognizeit,butyou
neversayaword.'

'There was no need if you knew that I recognized it,' I said rather bitterly. So Poirot had known all
along!Ihadnotdeceivedhimforaninstant.

'Ta-ta!YoudidnotknowthatIknewthat.Andtonightyouhelpthegirltoescapewhenwehavefound
her with so much trouble. Eh bien, it comes to this - are you going to work with me or against me,
Hastings?'

For a moment or two I did not answer. To break with my old friend gave me great pain. Yet I must
definitely range myself against him. Would he ever forgive me, I wondered? He had been strangely
calmsofarbutIknewhimtopossessmarvellousself-command.

'Poirot,'Isaid,'I'msorry.IadmitI'vebehavedbadlytoyouoverthis.Butsometimesonehasnochoice.
AndinthefutureImusttakemyownline.'

Poirotnoddedhisheadseveraltimes.

'Iunderstand,'hesaid.Themockinglighthadquitediedoutofhiseyes,andhespokewithasincerity
and kindness that surprised me. 'It is that, my friend, is it not? It is love that has come - not as you
imaginedit,allcock-a-hoopwithfinefeathers,butsadly,withbleedingfeet.Well,well,Iwarnedyou.
When I realized that this girl must have taken the dagger, I warned you. Perhaps you remember. But
alreadyitwastoolate.But,tellme,howmuchdoyouknow?'

Imethiseyessquarely.

'Nothingthatyoucouldtellmewouldbeanysurprisetome,Poirot.Understandthat.Butincaseyou
thinkofresumingyoursearchforMissDuveen,Ishouldlikeyoutoknowonethingclearly:Ifyouhave
anyideathatshewasconcernedinthiscrime,orwasthemysteriousladywhocalleduponMrRenauld
that night, you are wrong. I travelled home from France with her that day, and parted from her at
Victoriathatevening,sothatitisclearlyimpossibleforhertohavebeeninMerlinville.'

'Ah!'Poirotlookedatmethoughtfully.'Andyouwouldsweartothatinacourtoflaw?'

'MostcertainlyIwould.'

Poirotroseandbowed.

'Mon ami! Vive l'amour! It can perform miracles. It is decidedly ingenious what you have thought of
there.ItdefeatsevenHerculePoirot!'

Chapter23

DIFFICULTIESAHEAD

Afteramomentofstress,suchasIhavejustdescribed,reactionisboundtosetin.Iretiredtorestthat
nightonanoteoftriumph,butIawoketorealizethatIwasbynomeansoutofthewood.True,Icould
seenoflawinthealibiIhadsosuddenlyconceived.Ihadbuttosticktomystory,andIfailedtosee
howBellacouldbeconvictedinfaceofit.ButIfelttheneedoftreadingwarily.Poirotwouldnottake
defeatlyingdown.Somehoworother,hewouldendeavourtoturnthetablesonme,andthatintheway,
andatthemoment,whenIleastexpectedit.

Wemetatbreakfastthefollowingmorningasthoughnothinghadhappened.Poirot'sgoodtemperwas
imperturbable,yetIthoughtIdetectedakindofreserveinhismannerwhichwasnew.Afterbreakfast,I
announcedmyintentionofgoingoutforastroll.AmaliciousgleamshotthroughPoirot'seyes.

'Ifitisinformationyouseek,youneednotbeatthepainsofderangingyourself.Icantellyouallyou
wish to know. The Dulcibella Sisters have cancelled their contract, and have left Coventry for an
unknowndestination.'

'Isthatreallyso,Poirot?'

'Youcantakeitfromme,Hastings.Imadeinquiriesthefirstthingthismorning.Afterall,whatelsedid
youexpect?'

True enough, nothing else could be expected under the circumstances. Cinderella had profited by the
slight start I had been able to secure her, and would certainly not lose a moment in removing herself
from the reach of the pursuer. It was what I had intended and planned. Nevertheless, I was aware of
beingplungedintoanetworkoffreshdifficulties.

Ihadabsolutelynomeansofcommunicatingwiththegirl,anditwasvitalthatsheshouldknowtheline
ofdefencethathadoccurredtome,andwhichIwaspreparedtocarryout.Ofcourseitwaspossible
thatshemighttrytosendwordtomeinsomewayoranother,butIhardlythoughtitlikely.Shewould
knowtherisksheranofamessagebeinginterceptedbyPoirot,thussettinghimonhertrackoncemore.
Clearlyheronlycoursewastodisappearutterlyforthetimebeing.

But, in the meantime, what was Poirot doing? I studied him attentively. He was wearing his most
innocentair,andstaringmeditativelyintothefardistance.Helookedaltogethertooplacidandsupineto
givemereassurance.Ihadlearned,withPoirot,thatthelessdangeroushelooked,themoredangerous
hewas.Hisquiescencealarmedme.Observingatroubledqualityinmyface,hesmiledbenignantly.

'Youarepuzzled,Hastings?YouaskyourselfwhyIdonotlaunchmyselfinpursuit?'

'Well-somethingofthekind.'

'It is what you would do, were you in my place. I understand that. But I am not of those who enjoy
rushing up and down a country seeking a needle in a haystack, as you English say. No - let
MademoiselleBellaDuveengo.Withoutdoubt,Ishallbeabletofindherwhenthetimecomes.Until
then,Iamcontenttowait.'

Istaredathimdoubtfully.Washeseekingtomisleadme?Ihadanirritatingfeelingthat,evennow,he
was master of the situation. My sense of superiority was gradually waning. I had contrived the girl's
escape,andevolvedabrilliantschemeforsavingherfromtheconsequencesofherrashact-butIcould
notresteasyinmymind.Poirot'sperfectcalmawakenedathousandapprehensions.

'IsupposePoirot,'Isaidratherdiffidently,'Imustn'taskwhatyourplansare?I'veforfeitedtheright.'

'Butnotatall.Thereisnosecretaboutthem.WereturntoFrancewithoutdelay.'

'We?'

'Precisely-"we"!YouknowverywellthatyoucannotaffordtoletPapaPoirotoutofyoursight.Eh?is
itnotso,myfriend?ButremaininEnglandbyallmeansifyouwish-'

Ishookmyhead.Hehadhitthenailonthehead.Icouldnotaffordtolethimoutofmysight.Although
I could not expect his confidence after what had happened, I could still check his actions. The only
dangertoBellalaywithhim.GiraudandtheFrenchpolicewereindifferenttoherexistence.Atallcosts
ImustkeepnearPoirot.

Poirot observed me attentively as these reflections passed through my mind, and gave me a nod of
satisfaction.

'I am right, am I not? And as you are quite capable of trying to follow me, disguised with some
absurditysuchasafalsebeard-whicheveryonewouldperceive,bienentendu-Imuchpreferthatwe
shouldvoyagetogether.Itwouldannoymegreatlythatanyoneshouldmockthemselvesatyou.'

'Verywell,then.Butit'sonlyfairtowarnyou-'

'Iknow-Iknowall.Youaremyenemy!Bemyenemythen.Itdoesnotworrymeatall.'

'Solongasit'sallfairandabove-board,Idon'tmind.'

'YouhavetothefulltheEnglishpassionfor"fairplay"!Nowyourscruplesaresatisfied,letusdepart
immediately. There is no time to be lost. Our stay in England has been short but sufficient. I know -
whatIwantedtoknow.'

Thetonewaslight,butIreadaveiledmenaceintothewords.

'Still-'Ibegan,andstopped.

'Still - as you say! Without doubt you are satisfied with the part you are playing. Me, I preoccupy
myselfwithJackRenauld.'

Jack Renauld! The words gave me a start. I had completely forgotten that aspect of the case. Jack
Renauld,inprison,withtheshadowoftheguillotineloomingoverhim.IsawthepartIwasplayingina
moresinisterlight.IcouldsaveBella-yes,butindoingsoIrantheriskofsendinganinnocentmanto
hisdeath.

Ipushedthethoughtfrommewithhorror.Itcouldnotbe.Hewouldbeacquitted.Certainlyhewouldbe
acquitted. But the cold fear came back. Suppose he were not? What then? Could I have it on my
conscience-horriblethought!Woulditcometothatintheend?Adecision.BellaorJackRenauld?The
promptings of my heart were to save the girl I loved at any cost to myself. But, if the cost were to
anothertheproblemwasaltered.

What would the girl herself say? I remembered that no word of Jack Renauld's arrest had passed my
lips. As yet she was in total ignorance of the fact that her former lover was in prison charged with a
hideouscrimewhichhehadnotcommitted.Whensheknew,howwouldsheact?Wouldshepermither
life to be saved at the expense of his? Certainly she must do nothing rash. Jack Renauld might, and
probablywould,beacquittedwithoutanyinterventiononherpart.Ifso,good.Butifhewasnot!That
wastheterrible,theunanswerableproblem.Ifanciedthatsherannoriskoftheextremepenalty.The
circumstances of the crime were quite different in her case. She could plead jealousy and extreme
provocation,andheryouthandbeautywouldgoformuch.ThefactthatbyatragicmistakeitwasMr
Renauld,andnothisson,whopaidthepenaltywouldnotalterthemotiveofthecrime.Butinanycase,
howeverlenientthesentenceoftheCourt,itmustmeanalongtermofimprisonment.

No!Bellamustbeprotected.And,atthesametime,JackRenauldmustbesaved.Howthiswastobe
accomplished I did not see clearly. But I pinned my faith to Poirot. He knew. Come what might, he
wouldmanagetosaveaninnocentman.Hemustfindsomepretextotherthantherealone.Itmightbe
difficult,buthewouldmanageitsomehow.AndwithBellaunsuspected,andJackRenauldacquitted,
allwouldendsatisfactorily.

SoItoldmyselfrepeatedly,butatthebottomofmyhearttherestillremainedacoldfear.

Chapter24

'SAVEHIM!'

WecrossedfromEnglandbytheeveningboat,andthefollowingmorningsawusinStOmer,whither
JackRenauldhadbeentaken.PoirotlostnotimeinvisitingM.Hautet.Ashedidnotseemdisposedto
makeanyobjectionstomyaccompanyinghim,Iborehimcompany.

Aftervariousformalitiesandpreliminaries,wewereconductedtotheexaminingmagistrate'sroom.He
greeteduscordially.

'I was told that you had returned to England, Monsieur Poirot. I am glad to find that such is not the
case.'

'It is true that I went there, monsieur, but it was only for a flying visit. A side issue, but one that I
fanciedmightrepayinvestigation.'

'Anditdid-eh?'

Poirotshruggedhisshoulders.M.Hautetnodded,sighing.

'We must resign ourselves, I fear. That animal Giraud, his manners are abominable, but he is
undoubtedlyclever!Notmuchchanceofthatonemakingamistake.'

'Youthinknot?'

Itwastheexaminingmagistrate'sturntoshrughisshoulders.

'Oh,well,speakingfrankly-inconfidence,ofcourse,canyoucometoanyotherconclusion?'

'Frankly,thereseemtometobemanypointsthatareobscure.'

'Suchas-?'

ButPoirotwasnottobedrawn.

'Ihavenotyettabulatedthem,'heremarked.'ItwasageneralreflectionthatIwasmaking.Ilikedthe
youngman,andshouldbesorrytobelievehimguiltyofsuchahideouscrime.Bytheway,whathashe
tosayforhimselfonthematter?'

Themagistratefrowned.

'I cannot understand him. He seems incapable of putting up any sort of defence. It has been most
difficult to get him to answer questions. He contents himself with a general denial, and beyond that
takesrefugeinamostobstinatesilence.Iaminterrogatinghimagaintomorrow,perhapsyouwouldlike

tobepresent?'

Weacceptedtheinvitationwithempressement.

'Adistressingcase,'saidthemagistratewithasigh.'MysympathyforMadameRenauldisprofound.'

'HowisMadameRenauld?'

'She has not yet recovered consciousness. It is merciful in a way, poor woman, she is being spared
much.Thedoctorssaythatthereisnodanger,butthatwhenshecomestoherselfshemustbekeptas
quietaspossible.Itwas,Iunderstand,quiteasmuchtheshockasthefallwhichcausedpresentstate.It
wouldbeterribleifherbrainbecamehinged;butIshouldnotwonderatall-no,really,notatall.'

M. Hautet leaned back, shaking his head, with a sort of mournful enjoyment, as he envisaged the
gloomyprospect.Herousedhimselfatlength,andobservedwithastart:

'Thatremindsme.Ihaveherealetterforyou,MonsieurPoirot.Letmesee,wheredidIputit?'

Heproceededtorummageamonghispapers.Atlasthefoundthemissive,andhandedittoPoirot.

'ItwassentundercovertomeinorderthatImightforwardittoyou,'heexplained.'Butasyouleftno
addressIcouldnotdoso.'

Poirotstudiedthelettercuriously.Itwasaddressedinalong,sloping,foreignhand,andthewritingwas
decidedlyawoman's.Poirotdidnotopenit.Insteadheputitinhispocketandrosetohisfeet.

'Tilltomorrowthen.Manythanksforyourcourtesyandamiability.'

'Butnotatall.Iamalwaysatyourservice.'

WewerejustleavingthebuildingwhenwecamefacetofacewithGiraud,lookingmoredandifiedthan
ever,andthoroughlypleasedwithhimself.

'Aha!MonsieurPoirot,'hecriedairily.'YouhavereturnedfromEnglandthen?'

'Asyousee,'saidPoirot.

'Theendofthecaseisnotfaroffnow,Ifancy.'

'Iagreewithyou,MonsieurGiraud.'

Poirotspokeinasubduedtone.Hiscrestfallenmannerseemedtodelighttheother.

'Ofallthemilk-and-watercriminals!Notanideaoffendinghimself.Itisextraordinary!'

'Soextraordinarythatitgivesonetothink,doesitnot?'suggestedPoirotmildly.

ButGiraudwasnotevenlistening.Hetwirledhiscaneamicably.

'Well,goodday,MonsieurPoirot.Iamgladyou'resatisfiedofyoungRenauld'sguiltatlast.'

'Pardon!ButIamnotintheleastsatisfied.JackRenauldisinnocent.'

Giraud stared for a moment - then burst out laughing, tapping his head significantly with the brief
remark:'Toqué!'

Poirotdrewhimselfup.Adangerouslightshowedinhiseyes.

'Monsieur Giraud, throughout the case your manner to me has been deliberately insulting. You need
teachingalesson.IampreparedtowageryoufivehundredfrancsthatIfindthemurdererofMonsieur
Renauldbeforeyoudo.Isitagreed?'

Giraudstaredhelplesslyathimandmurmuredagain:

'Comenow,'urgedPoirot,'isitagreed?'

'Ihavenowishtotakeyourmoneyfromyou.'

'Makeyourmindeasy-youwillnot.'

'Oh, well then - I agree! You speak of my manner to you being insulting. Well, once or twice, your
mannerhasannoyedme.'

'Iamenchantedtohearit,'saidPoirot.'Goodmorning,MonsieurGiraud.Come,Hastings.'

Isaidnowordaswewalkedalongthestreet.Myheartwasheavy.Poirothaddisplayedhisintentions
onlytooplainly.IdoubtedmorethanevermypowersofsavingBellafromtheconsequencesofheract.
ThisunluckyencounterwithGiraudhadrousedPoirotandputhimonhismettle.

SuddenlyIfeltahandlaidonmyshoulder,andturnedtofaceGabrielStonor.Westoppedandgreeted
andheproposedstrollingwithusbacktoourhotel.

'Andwhatareyoudoinghere,MonsieurStonor?'inquiredPoirot.

'Onemuststandbyone'sfriends,'repliedtheotherdryly.'Especiallywhentheyareunjustlyaccused.'

'ThenyoudonotbelievethatJackRenauldcommittedthecrime?'Iaskedeagerly.

'Certainly I don't. I know the lad. I admit that there have been one or two things in this business that
havestaggeredmecompletely,butnonetheless,inspiteofhisfoolwayoftakingit,I'llneverbelieve
thatJackRenauldisamurderer.'

Myheartwarmedtothesecretary.Hiswordsseemedtoliftasecretweightfrommyheart.

'Ihavenodoubtthatmanypeoplefeellikeyoudo,'Iexclaimed.'Thereisreallyabsurdlylittleevidence
againsthim.Ishouldsaythattherewasnodoubtofhisacquittal-nodoubtwhatever.'

ButStonorhardlyrespondedasIcouldhavewished.

'I'dgivealottothinkasyoudo,'hesaidgravely.HeturnedtoPoirot.'What'syouropinion,monsieur?'

'Ithinkthatthingslookveryblackagainsthim,'saidPoirotquietly.

'Youbelievehimguilty?'saidStonorsharply.

'No.ButIthinkhewillfindithardtoprovehisinnocence.'

'He'sbehavingsodamnedqueerly,'mutteredStonor.'Ofcourse,Irealizethatthere'salotmoreinthis
affair than meets the eye. Giraud's not wise to that because he's an outsider, but the whole thing has
beendamnedodd.Astothat,leastsaidsoonestmended.IfMrsRenauldwantstohushanythingup,I'll
takemycuefromher.It'shershow,andI'vetoomuchrespectforherjudgementtoshovemyoarin,but
Ican'tgetbehindthisattitudeofJack's.Anyonewouldthinkhewantedtobethoughtguilty.'

'But it's absurd,' I cried, bursting in. 'For one thing, the dagger -' I paused, uncertain as to how much
Poirot would wish me to reveal. I continued, choosing my words carefully, 'We know that the dagger
couldnothavebeeninJackRenauld'spossessionthatevening.MrsRenauldknowsthat.'

'True,'saidStonor.'Whensherecovers,shewilldoubtlesssayallthisandmore.Well,Imustbeleaving
you.'

'Onemoment.'Poirot'shandarrestedhisdeparture.'Canyouarrangeforwordtobesenttomeatonce
shouldMrsRenauldrecoverconsciousness?'

'Certainly.That'seasilydone.'

'Thatpointaboutthedaggerisgood,Poirot,'Iurgedaswewentupstairs.'Icouldn'tspeakveryplainly
beforeStonor.'

'Thatwasquiterightofyou.Wemightaswellkeeptheknowledgetoourselvesaslongaswecan.Asto
the dagger, your point hardly helps Jack Renauld. You remember that I was absent for an hour this
morning,beforewestartedfromLondon?'

'Yes?'

'Well,IwasemployedintryingtofindthefirmJackRenauldemployedtoconverthissouvenirs.Itwas
notverydifficult.Ehbien,Hasting,theymadetohisordernottwopaperknives,butthree.'

'Sothat-'

'Sothat,aftergivingonetohismotherandonetoBellaDuveen,therewasathirdwhichhedoubtless
retainedforhisownuse.No,Hastings,Ifearthedaggerquestionwillnothelpustosavehimfromthe
guillotine.'

'Itwon'tcometothat,'Icried,stung.

Poirotshookhisheaduncertainly.

'Youwillsavehim,'Icriedpositively.

Poirotglancedatmedryly.

'Haveyounotrendereditimpossible,monami?'

'Someotherway,'Imuttered.

'Ah!Sapristi!Butitismiraclesyouaskfromme.No-saynomore.Letusinsteadseewhatisinthis
letter.'

Andhedrewouttheenvelopefromhisbreastpocket.Hisfacecontractedasheread,thenhehandedthe
oneflimsysheettome.

'Thereareotherwomenintheworldwhosuffer,Hastings.'

Thewritingwasblurredandthenotehadevidentlybeenwritteningreatagitation.

DearM.Poirot,

Ifyougetthis,Ibegofyoutocometomyaid.Ihavenoonetoturnto,andatallcostsJackmustbe
saved.Iimploreofyouonmykneestohelpus.

Ihandeditback,moved.

'Youwillgo?'

'Atonce.Wewillcommandanauto.'

HalfanhourlatersawusattheVillaMarguerite.Marthewasatthedoortomeetus,andletPoirotin,
clingingwithbothhandstooneofhis.

'Ah,youhavecome-itisgoodofyou.Ihavebeenindespair,notknowingwhattodo.Theywillnotlet
megotoseehiminprisoneven.Isufferhorribly.Iamnearlymad.

'Isittruewhattheysay,thathedoesnotdenythecrime?Butthatismadness.Itisimpossiblethathe
shouldhavedoneit!NeverforoneminutewillIbelieveit.'

'NeitherdoIbelieveit,mademoiselle,'saidPoirotgently.

'Butthenwhydoeshenotspeak?Idonotunderstand.'

'Perhapsbecauseheisscreeningsomeone,'suggestedPoirot,watchingher.

Marthefrowned.

'Screening someone? Do you mean his mother? Ah, from the beginning I have suspected her. Who
inheritsallthatvastfortune?Shedoes.Itiseasytowearwidow'sweedsandplaythehypocrite.And
theysaythatwhenhewasarrestedshefelldownlikethat!'Shemadeadramaticgesture.'Andwithout
doubt,MonsieurStonor,thesecretary,hehelpedher.Theyarethickasthieves,thosetwo.Itistrueshe
isolderthanhe-butwhatdomencare-ifawomanisrich.'

Therewasahintofbitternessinhertone.

'StonorwasinEngland,'Iputin.

'Hesaysso-butwhoknows?'

'Mademoiselle,' said Poirot quietly, 'if we are to work together, you and I, we must have things clear.
First,Iwillaskyouaquestion.'

'Yes,monsieur?'

'Areyouawareofyourmother'srealname?'

Marthelookedathimforaminute,then,lettingherheadfallforwardonherarms,sheburstintotears.

'There,there,'saidPoirot,pattingherontheshoulder.'Calmyourself,petite,Iseethatyouknow.Nowa
secondquestion-didyouknowwhoMonsieurRenauldwas?'

'MonsieurRenauld,'sheraisedherheadfromherhandsandlookedathimwonderingly.

'Ah,Iseeyoudonotknowthat.Nowlistentomecarefully.'

Stepbystep,hewentoverthecase,muchashehaddonetomeonthedayofourdepartureforEngland.
Marthelistenedspellbound.Whenhehadfinished,shedrewalongbreath.

'Butyouarewonderful-magnificent!Youarethegreatestdetectiveintheworld.'

With a swift gesture she slipped off her chair and knelt before him with an abandonment that was
whollyFrench.

'Savehim,monsieur,'shecried.'Ilovehimso.Oh,savehim-savehim-savehim!'

Chapter25

ANUNEXPECTEDDÉNOUEMENT

WewerepresentthefollowingmorningattheexaminationofJackRenauld.Shortasthetimehadbeen,
Iwasshockedatthechangethathadtakenplaceintheyoungprisoner.Hischeekshadfallenin,there
weredeepblackcirclesroundhiseyes,andhelookedhaggardanddistraught,asonewhohadwooed
sleepinvainforseveralnights.Hebetrayednoemotionatseeingus.

'Renauld,'beganthemagistrate'doyoudenythatyouwereinMerlinvilleonthenightofthecrime?'

Jackdidnotreplyatonce,thenhesaidwithahesitancyofmannerwhichwaspiteous:

'I-I-toldyouthatIwasinCherbourg.'

Themagistrateturnedsharply.

'Sendinthestationwitnesses.'

InamomentortwothedooropenedtoadmitamanwhomIrecognizedasbeingaporteratMerlinville
station.

'Youwereondutyonthenightof7thJune?'

'Yes,monsieur.'

'Youwitnessedthearrivalofthe11.40train?'

'Yes,monsieur.'

'Lookattheprisoner.Doyourecognizehimashavingbeenoneofthepassengerstoalight?'

'Yes,monsieur.'

'Thereisnopossibilityofyourbeingmistaken?'

'No,monsieur.IknowMonsieurJackRenauldwell.'

'Norofyourbeingmistakenastothedate?'

'No,monsieur.Becauseitwasthefollowingmorning,8thJune,thatweheardofthemurder.'

Anotherrailwayofficerwasbroughtin,andconfirmedthefirstone'sevidence.Themagistratelookedat
JackRenauld.

'Thesemenhaveidentifiedyoupositively.Whathaveyoutosay?'

Jackshruggedhisshoulders.

'Nothing.'

'Renauld,'continuedthemagistrate,'doyourecognizethis?'

Hetooksomethingfromthetablebyhissideandhelditouttotheprisoner.IshudderedasIrecognized
theaeroplanedagger.

'Pardon,' cried Jack's counsel, Maître Grosier. 'I demand to speak to my client before he answers that
question.'

ButJackRenauldhadnoconsiderationforthefeelingsofthewretchedGrosier.Hewavedhimaside,
andrepliedquietly:

'CertainlyIrecognizeit.Itwasapresentgivenbymetomymother,asasouvenirofthewar.'

'Isthere,asfarasyouknow,anyduplicateofthatdaggerinexistence?'

AgainMaîtreGrosierburstout,andagainJackoverrodehim.

'NotthatIknowof.Thesettingwasmyowndesign.'

Eventhemagistratealmostgaspedattheboldnessofthereply.Itdid,inverytruth,seemasthoughJack
wasrushingonhisfate.Irealized,ofcourse,thevitalnecessityhewasunderofconcealing,forBella's
sake,thefactthattherewasaduplicatedaggerinthecase.Solongastherewassupposedtobeonlyone
weapon, no suspicion was likely to attach to the girl who had had the second paper-knife in her
possession. He was valiantly shielding the woman he had once loved - but at what cost to himself! I
begantorealizethemagnitudeofthetaskIhadsolightlysetPoirot.Itwouldnotbeeasytosecurethe

acquittalofJackRenauldbyanythingshortofthetruth.

M.Hautetspokeagainwithapeculiarlybitinginflection:

'Madame Renauld told us that this dagger was on her dressing-table on the night of the crime. But
MadameRenauldisamother!Itwilldoubtlessastonishyou,Renauld,butIconsiderithighlylikelythat
MadameRenauldwasmistaken,andthat,byinadvertenceperhaps,youhadtakenitwithyoutoParis.
Doubtlessyouwillcontradictme.'

Isawthelad'shandcuffedhandsclenchthemselves.Theperspirationstoodoutinbeadsuponhisbrow,
aswithasupremeeffortheinterruptedM.Hautetinahoarsevoice:

'Ishallnotcontradictyou.Itispossible.'

Itwasastupefyingmoment.MaîtreGrosierrosetohisfeetprotesting:

'My client has undergone a considerable nervous strain. I should wish it put on record that I do not
considerhimanswerableforwhathesays.'

The magistrat quelled him angrily. For a moment a doubt seemed to arise in his own mind. Jack
Renauldhadalmostoverdonehispart.Heleanedforward,andgazedattheprisonersearchingly.

'Doyoufullyunderstand,Renauld,thatontheanswersyouhavegivenmeIshallhavenoalternative
buttocommityoufortrial?'

Jack'spalefaceflushed.Helookedsteadilyback.

'MonsieurHautet,IswearthatIdidnotkillmyfather.'

Butthemagistrate'sbriefmomentofdoubtwasover.Helaughedashortunpleasantlaugh.

'Withoutdoubt,withoutdoubt-theyarealwaysinnocent,ourprisoners!Byyourownmouthyouare
condemned.Youcanoffernodefence,noalibi-onlyamereassertionwhichwouldnotdeceiveababy!
-thatyouarenotguilty.Youkilledyourfather,Renauld-avileandcowardlymurder-forthesakeof
themoneywhichyoubelievedwouldcometoyouathisdeath.Yourmotherwasanaccessoryafterthe

fact.Doubtless,inviewofthefactthatsheactedasamother,thecourtswillextendanindulgencetoher
that they will not accord to you. And rightly so! Your crime was a horrible one - to be held in
abhorrencebygodsandmen!'

Hautetwasinterrupted-tohisintenseannoyance.

Thedoorwaspushedopen.

'Monsieurlejuge,Monsieurlejuge,'stammeredtheattendant,'thereisaladywhosays-whosays-'

'Whosayswhat?'criedthejustlyincensedmagistrate.'Thisishighlyirregular.Iforbidit-Iabsolutely
forbidit.'

Butaslenderfigurepushedthestammeringgendarmeaside.Dressedallinblack,withalongveilthat
hidherface,sheadvancedintotheroom.

Myheartgaveasickeningthrob.Shehadcomethen!Allmyeffortswereinvain.YetIcouldnotbut
admirethecouragethathadledhertotakethisstepsounfalteringly.

Sheraisedherveil-andIgasped.For,thoughaslikeherastwopeas,thisgirlwasnotCinderella!On
theotherhand,nowthatIsawherwithoutthefairwigshehadwornonthestage,Irecognizedheras
thegirlofthephotographinJackRenauld'sroom.

'YouaretheJuged'Instruction,MonsieurHautet?'shequeried.

'Yes,butIforbid-'

'MynameisBellaDuveen.IwishtogivemyselfupforthemurderofMrRenauld.'

Chapter26

IRECEIVEALETTER

'Myfriend,

'Youwillknowallwhenyougetthis.NothingthatIcansaywillmoveBella.Shehasgoneouttogive

herselfup.Iamtiredoutwithstruggling.

'You will know now that I deceived you, that where you gave me trust I repaid you with lies. It will
seem,perhaps,indefensibletoyou,butIshouldlike,beforeIgooutofyourlifeforever,toshowyou
justhowitallcameabout.IfIknewthatyouforgavemeitwouldmakelifeeasierforme.Itwasn'tfor
myselfIdidit-that'stheonlythingIcanputforwardtosayformyself.

'I'llbeginfromthedayImetyouintheboattrainfromParis.IwasuneasythenaboutBella.Shewas
justdesperateaboutJackRenauldshe'dhavelaindownonthegroundforhimtowalkon,andwhenhe
begantochange,andtostopwritingsooftenshebegangettinginastate.Shegotitintoherheadthathe
was keen on another girl - and of course, as it turned out afterwards, she was quite right there. She'd
madeuphermindtogototheirVillaatMerlinville,andtryandseeJack.SheknewIwasagainstitand
triedtogivemetheslip.IfoundshewasnotonthetrainatCalais,anddeterminedIwouldnotgoonto
England without her. I'd an uneasy feeling that something awful was going to happen if I couldn't
preventit.

'ImetthenexttrainfromParis.Shewasonit,andsetupongoingoutthenandtheretoMerlinville.I
arguedwithherforallIwasworth,butitwasn'tanygood.Shewasallstrungupandsetuponhaving
herownway.Well,Iwashedmyhandsofit.I'ddoneallIcould.Itwasgettinglate.Iwenttoanhotel
andBellastartedforMerlinville.Istillcouldn'tshakeoffmyfeelingofwhatthebookscall"impending
disaster".

'Thenextdaycame-butnoBella.She'dmadeadatewithmetomeetatthehotel,butshedidn'tkeepit.
Nosignofherallday.Igotmoreandmoreanxious.Thencameaneveningpaperwiththenews.

'Itwasawful!Icouldn'tbesure,ofcourse,butIwasterriblyafraid.IfigureditoutthatBellahadmet
PapaRenauldandtoldhimaboutherandJack,andthathe'dinsultedherorsomethinglikethat.We've
bothgotterriblyquicktempers.

'Thenallthemaskedforeignerbusinesscameout,andIbegantofeelmoreatease.Butitstillworried
methatBellahadn'tkeptherdatewithme.

'BythenextmorningIwassorattledthatI'djustgottogoandseewhatIcould.Firstthing,Iranup
against you. You know all that... When I saw the dead man, looking so like Jack, and wearing Jack's
fancy overcoat, I knew! And there was the identical paper-knife - wicked little thing! - that Jack had
givenBella!Tentooneithadherfinger-marksonit.Ican'thopetoexplaintoyouthesortofhelpless
horrorofthatmoment.Ionlysawonethingclearly-Imustgetholdofthatdagger,andgetrightaway
withitbeforetheyfoundoutitwasgone.Ipretendedtofaint,andwhileyouwereawaygettingwaterI
tookthethingandhiditawayinmydress.

'ItoldyouthatIwasstayingattheHôtelduPhare,butofcoursereallyImadeabee-linebacktoCalais,
andthenontoEnglandbythefirstboat.Whenwewereinmid-ChannelIdroppedthatlittledevilofa
daggerintothesea.ThenIfeltIcouldbreatheagain.

'BellawasinourdigsinLondon.ShelookedlikenothingonGod'searth.ItoldherwhatI'ddone,and
that she was pretty safe for the time being. She stared at me, and then began laughing... laughing...
laughing...itwashorribletohearher!Ifeltthatthebestthingtodowastokeepbusy.She'dgomadif
shehadtimetobroodonwhatshe'ddone.Luckilywegotanengagementatonce.

'Andthen,Isawyouandyourfriendwatchingusthatnight...Iwasfrantic.Youmustsuspect,oryou
wouldn'thavetrackedusdown.Ihadtoknowtheworst,soIfollowedyou.Iwasdesperate.Andthen,
beforeI'dhadtimetosayanything,Itumbledtoitthatitwasmeyoususpected,notBella!Oratleast
thatyouthoughtIwasBella,sinceI'dstolenthedagger.

'Iwish,honey,thatyoucouldseebacktomymindatthatmoment...you'dforgiveme,perhaps-Iwas
sofrightened,andmuddled,anddesperate...AllIcouldgetclearlywasthatyouwouldtryandsaveme.
Ididn'tknowwhetheryou'dbewillingtosaveher.Ithoughtverylikelynot-Itwasn'tthesamething!
AndIcouldn'triskit!Bella'smytwin-I'dgottodothebestforher.SoIwentonlying.Ifeltmean-I
feelmeanstill...That'sall-enoughtoo,you'llsay,Iexpect.Ioughttohavetrustedyou.IfIhad-

'AssoonasthenewswasinthepaperthatJackRenauldhadbeenarrested,itwasallup.Bellawouldn't
waittoseehowthingswent...

'I'mverytired.Ican'twriteanymore.'

ShehadbeguntosignherselfCinderella,buthadcrossedthatoutandwritteninstead'DulcieDuveen'.

Itwasanill-written,blurredepistle-butIhavekeptittothisday.

PoirotwaswithmewhenIreadit.Thesheetsfellfrommyhand,andIlookedacrossathim.

'Didyouknowallthetimethatitwas-theother?'

'Yes,myfriend.'

'Whydidyounottellme?

'Tobeginwith,Icouldhardlybelieveitconceivablethatyoucouldmakesuchamistake.Youhadseen
thephotograph.Thesistersareveryalike,butbynomeansincapableofdistinguishment.'

'Butthefairhair?'

'Awig,wornforthesakeofapiquantcontrastonthestage.Isitconceivablethatwithtwinsoneshould
befair,andonedark?'

'Whydidn'tyoutellmethatnightatthehotelinCoventry?'

'You were rather high-handed in your methods, mon ami,' said Poirot dryly. 'You did not give me a
chance.'

'Butafterwards?'

'Ah,afterwards!Well,tobeginwith,Iwashurtatyourwantoffaithinme.Andthen,Iwantedtosee
whetheryourfeelingswouldstandthetestoftime.Infact,whetheritwaslove,oraflashinthepan,
withyou.Ishouldnothaveleftyoulonginyourerror.'

Inodded.Histonewastooaffectionateformetobearresentment.Ilookeddownonthesheetsofthe
letter.SuddenlyIpickedthemupfromthefloor,andpushedthemacrosstohim.

'Readthat,'Isaid.'I'dlikeyouto.'

Hereaditthroughinsilence,thenhelookedupatme.

'Whatisitthatworriesyou,Hastings?'

ThiswasquiteanewmoodinPoirot.Hismockingmannerseemedlaidquiteaside.Iwasabletosay
whatIwantedwithouttoomuchdifficulty.

'Shedoesn'tsay-shedoesn'tsay-well,notwhethershecaresformeornot?'

Poirotturnedbackthepages.

'Ithinkyouaremistaken,Hastings.'

'Where?'Icried,leaningforwardeagerly.

Poirotsmiled.

'Shetellsyouthatineverylineoftheletter,monami.'

'ButwhereamItofindher?There'snoaddressontheletter.There'saFrenchstamp,that'sall.'

'Exciteyourselfnot!LeaveittoPapaPoirot.IcanfindherforyouassoonasIhavefivelittleminutes.'

Chapter27

JACKRENAULD'SSTORY

'Congratulations,MonsieurJack,'saidPoirot,wringingtheladwarmlybythehand.

Young Renauld had come to us as soon as he was liberated - before starting for Merlinville to rejoin
Martheandhismother.Stonoraccompaniedhim.Hisheartinesswasinstrongcontrasttothelad'swan
looks. It was plain that the boy was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He smiled mournfully at
Poirot,andsaidinalowvoice:

'Iwentthroughittoprotecther,andnowit'sallnouse.'

'Youcouldhardlyexpectthegirltoacceptthepriceofyourlife,'remarkedStonordryly.'Shewasbound
tocomeforwardwhenshesawyouheadingstraightfortheguillotine.'

'Eh,mafoi!andyouwereheadingforittoo,'addedPoirot,withaslighttwinkle.'Youwouldhavehad
MaîtreGrosier'sdeathfromrageonyourconscienceifyouhadgoneon.'

'Hewasawellmeaningass,Isuppose,'saidJack.'Butheworriedmehorribly.Yousee,Icouldn'tvery
welltakehimintomyconfidence.But,myGod!what'sgoingtohappenaboutBella?'

'If I were you,' said Poirot frankly, 'I should not distress myself unduly. The French Courts are very
lenient to youth and beauty, and the crime passionnel! A clever lawyer will make out a great case of
extenuatingcircumstances.Itwillnotbepleasantforyou-'

'Idon'tcareaboutthat.Yousee,MonsieurPoirot,inawayIdofeelguiltyofmyfather'smurder.Butfor
me, and my entanglement with this girl, he would be alive and well today. And then my cursed
carelessness in taking away the wrong overcoat. I can't help feeling responsible for his death. It will
hauntmeforever!'

'No,no,'Isaidsoothingly.

'Of course it's horrible to me to think that Bella killed my father,' resumed Jack. 'But I'd treated her
shamefully. After I met Martha and realized I'd made a mistake, I ought to have written and told her
honestly.ButIwassoterrifiedofarowandofitscomingtoMartha'searsandherthinkingtherewas
moreinitthanthereeverhadbeen,that-well,Iwasacoward,andwentonhopingthethingwoulddie
down of itself. I was - in fact - not realizing that I was driving the poor kid desperate. If she'd really
knifedme,asshemeantto,Ishouldhavegotnomorethanmydeserts.Andthewayshe'scomeforward
nowisdownrightplucky.I'dhavestoodtheracket-youknow-uptotheend.'

Hewassilentforamomentortwo,andthenburstout:

'WhatgetsmeiswhytheGuvernorshouldbewanderingaboutinunderclothesandmyovercoatatthat
timeofnight.Isupposehe'djustgiventheforeignjohnniestheslip,andmymothermusthavemadea
mistakeaboutitsbeingtwoo'clockwhentheycame.Or-or,itwasn'tallaframe-up,wasit?Imean,my
motherdidn'tthink-couldn'tthink-that-thatitwasme?'

Poirotreassuredhimquickly.

'No,no,MonsieurJack.Havenofearsonthatscore.Asfortherest,Iwillexplainittoyouoneofthese
days.Itisrathercurious.Butwillyourecounttousexactlywhatdidoccuronthatterribleevening?'

'There'sverylittletotell.IcamefromCherbourg,asItoldyou,inordertoseeMarthebeforegoingto
theotherendoftheworld.ThetrainwaslateandIdecidedtotaketheshortcutacrossthegolflinks.I
couldeasilygetintothegroundsoftheVillaMargueritefromthere.Ihadnearlyreachedtheplacewhen
-'

Hepausedandswallowed.

'Iheardaterriblecry.Itwasn'tloud-asortofchokeandgasp-butitfrightenedme.ForamomentI
stoodrootedtothespot.ThenIcameroundthecornerofabush.Therewasmoonlight.Isawthegrave,
andafigurelyingfacedownwardswithadaggerstickingintheback.Andthen-andthen-Ilookedup
andsawher.Shewaslookingatmeasthoughshesawaghost-it'swhatshemusthavethoughtmeat
first-allexpressionseemedfrozenoutofherfacebyhorror.Andthenshegaveacryandturnedand
ran.'

Hestopped,tryingtomasterhisemotion.

'Andafterwards?'askedPoirotgently.

'Ireallydon'tknow.Istayedthereforatime,dazed.AndthenIrealizedI'dbettergetawayasfastasI
could.Itdidn'toccurtomethattheywouldsuspectme,butIwasafraidofbeingcalledupontogive
evidenceagainsther.IwalkedtoStBeauvaisasItoldyouandgotacarfromtherebacktoCherbourg.'

Aknockcameatthedoor,andapageenteredwithatelegramwhichhedeliveredtoStonor.Hetoreit
open.Thenhegotupfromhisseat.

'MrsRenauldhasregainedconsciousness,'hesaid.

'Ah!'Poirotsprangtohisfeet.'LetusallgotoMerlinvilleatonce.'

Ahurrieddeparturewasmadeforthwith.Stonor,atJack'sinstance,agreedtostaybehindanddoallthat
couldbedoneforBellaDuveen.Poirot,JackRenauld,andIsetoffintheRenauldcar.

The run took just over forty minutes. As we approached the doorway of the Villa Marguerite Jack
RenauldshotaquestioningglanceatPoirot.

'Howwoulditbeifyouwentonfirst-tobreakthenewstomymotherthatIamfree-'

'WhileyoubreakitinpersontoMademoiselleMarthe,eh?'finishedPoirot,withatwinkle.'Butyes,by
allmeans,Iwasabouttoproposesuchanarrangementmyself.'

JackRenaulddidnotwaitformore.Stoppingthecar,heswunghimselfout,andranupthepathtothe
frontdoor.WewentoninthecartotheVillaGeneviève.

'Poirot,'Isaid,'doyourememberhowwearrivedherethatfirstday?AndweremetbythenewsofMr
Renauld'smurder?'

'Ah,yes,truly.Notsolongagoeither.Butwhatalotofthingshavehappenedsincethen-especiallyfor
you.'

'Yes,indeed,'Isighed.

'Youareregardingitfromthesentimentalstandpoint,Hastings.Thatwasnotmymeaning.Wewillhope
thatMademoiselleBellawillbedealtwithleniently,andafterallJackRenauldcannotmarryboththe
girls! I spoke from a professional standpoint. This is not a crime well ordered and regular, such as a
detectivedelightsin.ThemiseenscénedesignedbyGeorgesConneau,thatindeedisperfect,butthe
denouement-ah,no!Amankilledbyaccidentinagirl'sfitofanger-ah,indeed,whatorderormethod
isthereinthat?'

And in the midst of a fit of laughter on my part at Poirot's peculiarities, the door was opened by
Françoise.

PoirotexplainedthathemustseeMrsRenauldatonce,andtheoldwomanconductedhimupstairs.I
remainedinthesalon.ItwassometimebeforePoirotreappeared.Hewaslookingunusuallygrave.

'Vousvoilà,Hastings!Sacrétonnerre!buttherearesquallsahead!'

'Whatdoyoumean?'Icried.

'Iwouldhardlyhavecreditedit,'saidPoirotthoughtfully,'butwomenareveryunexpected.'

'HereareJackandMartheDaubreuil,'Iexclaimed,lookingoutofthewindow.

Poirotboundedoutoftheroom,andmettheyoungcoupleonthestepsoutside.

'Donotenter.Itisbetternot.Yourmotherisveryupset.'

'Iknow,Iknow,'saidJackRenauld.'Imustgouptoheratonce.'

'Butno,Itellyou.Itisbetternot.'

'ButMartheandI-'

'In any case, do not take Mademoiselle with you. Mount, if you must, but you would be wise to be
guidedbyme.'

Avoiceonthestairsbehindmadeusallstart.

'Ithankyouforyourgoodoffices,MonsieurPoirotbutIwillmakemyownwishesclear.'

Westaredinastonishment.Descendingthestairs,leaningonLéonie'sarm,wasMrsRenauld,herhead
stillbandaged.TheFrenchgirlwasweeping,andimploringhermistresstoreturntobed.

'Madamewillkillherself.Itiscontrarytoallthedoctor'sorders!'

ButMrsRenauldcameon.

'Mother,'criedJack,startingforward.

Butwithagestureshedrovehimback.

'Iamnomotherofyours!Youarenosonofmine!FromthisdayandhourIrenounceyou.'

'Mother!'criedthelad,stupefied.

Foramomentsheseemedtowaver,tofalterbeforetheanguishinhisvoice.Poirotmadeamediating
gesture.Butinstantlysheregainedcommandofherself.

'Yourfather'sbloodisonyourhead.Youaremorallyguiltyofhisdeath.Youthwartedanddefiedhim
overthisgirl,andbyyourheartlesstreatmentofanothergirl,youbroughtabouthisdeath.Gooutfrom
my house. Tomorrow I intend to take such steps as shall make it certain that you shall never touch a

pennyofhismoney.Makeyourwayintheworldasbestyoucanwiththehelpofthegirlwhoisthe
daughterofyourfather'sbitterestenemy!'

Andslowly,painfullysheretracedherwayupstairs.

Wewerealldumbfounded-totallyunpreparedforsuchademonstration.JackRenauld,wornoutwith
allhehadalreadygonethrough,swayedandnearlyfell.PoirotandIwentquicklytohisassistance.

'Heisoverdone,'murmuredPoirottoMarthe.'Wherecanwetakehim?'

'Buthome!TotheVillaMarguerite.Wewillnursehim,mymotherandI.MypoorJack!'

WegottheladtotheVillawherehedroppedlimplyontoachairinasemi-dazedcondition.Poirotfelt
hisheadandhands.

'He has fever. The long strain begins to tell. And now this shock on top of it. Get him to bed and
HastingsandIwillsummonadoctor.'

Adoctorwassoonprocured.Afterexaminingthepatient,hegaveitashisopinionthatitwassimplya
caseofnervestrain.Withperfectrestandquiet,theladmightbealmostrestoredbythenextday,but,if
excited, there was a chance of brain fever. It would be advisable for someone to sit up all night with
him.

Finally,havingdoneallwecouldwelefthiminthechargeofMartheandhermother,andsetoutforthe
town.Itwaspastourusualhourofdining,andwewerebothfamished.Thefirstrestaurantwecameto
assuagedthepangsofhungerwithanexcellentomeletteandanequallyexcellententrecôtetofollow.

'Andnowforquartersforthenight.'saidPoirot,whenatlengthcafénoirhadcompletedthemeal.'Shall
wetryouroldfriend,theHôteldesBains?'

We traced our steps there without more ado. Yes, Messieurs could be accommodated with two good
roomsover-lookingthesea.ThenPoirotaskedaquestionwhichsurprisedme:

'HasanEnglishlady,MissRobinson,arrived?'

'Yes,monsieur.Sheisinthelittlesalon.'

'Ah!'

'Poirot,' I cried, keeping pace with him, as he walked along the corridor, 'who on earth is Miss
Robinson?'

Poirotbeamedkindlyonme.

'ItisthatIhavearrangedyouamarriage,Hastings.'

'ButIsay-'

'Bah!' said Poirot, giving me a friendly push over the threshold of the door. 'Do you think I wish to
trumpetaloudinMerlinvillethenameofDuveen?'

ItwasindeedCinderellawhorosetogreetus.Itookherhandinbothofmine.Myeyessaidtherest.

Poirotclearedhisthroat.

'Mes enfants,' he said, 'for the moment we have no time for sentiment. There is work ahead of us.
Mademoiselle,wereyouabletodowhatIaskedyou?'

In response, Cinderella took from her bag an object wrapped up in paper, and handed it silently to
Poirot.Thelatterunwrappedit.Igaveastart-foritwastheaeroplanedaggerwhichIunderstoodshe
had cast into the sea. Strange, how reluctant women always are to destroy the most compromising of
objectsanddocuments!

'Trèsbien,monenfant,'saidPoirot.'Iampleasedwithyou.Gonowandrestyourself.Hastingshereand
Ihaveworktodo.Youshallseehimtomorrow.'

'Whereareyougoing?'askedthegirl,hereyeswidening.

'Youshallhearallaboutittomorrow.'

'Becausewhereveryou'regoing,I'mcomingtoo.'

'But,mademoiselle-'

'I'mcomingtoo,Itellyou.'

Poirotrealizedthatitwasfutiletoargue.Hegavein.

'Comethen,mademoiselle.Butitwillnotbeamusing.Inallprobabilitynothingwillhappen.'

Thegirlmadenoreply.

Twentyminuteslaterwesetforth.Itwasquitedarknow,acloseoppressiveevening.Poirotledtheway
out of the town in the direction of the Villa Geneviève. But when he reached the Villa Marguerite he
paused.

'I should like to assure myself that all goes well with Jack Renauld. Come with me, Hastings.
Mademoiselle will perhaps remain outside. Madame Daubreuil might say something which would
woundher.'

We unlatched the gate, and walked up the path. As we went round to the side of the house, I drew
Poirot'sattentiontoawindowonthefirstfloor.ThrownsharplyontheblindwastheprofileofMarthe
Daubreuil.

'Ah!'saidPoirot.'IfiguretomyselfthatthatistheroomwhereweshallfindJackRenauld.'

MadameDaubreuilopenedthedoortous.SheexplainedthatJackwasmuchthesamebutperhapswe
wouldliketoseeforourselves.Sheledusupstairsandintothebedroom.MartheDaubreuilwassitting
byatablewithalamponit,working.Sheputherfingertoherlipsasweentered.

JackRenauldwassleepinganuneasy,fitfulsleep,hisheadturningfromsidetosideandhisfacestill
undulyflushed.

'Isthedoctorcomingagain?'askedPoirotinawhisper.

'Notunlesswesend.Heissleeping-thatisthegreatthing.Mamanmadehimatisane.'

Shesatdownagainwithherembroideryaswelefttheroom.MadameDaubreuilaccompaniedusdown
thestairs.SinceIhadlearnedofherpasthistory,Iviewedthiswomanwithincreasedinterest.Shestood
therewithhereyescastdown,thesameveryfaintenigmaticalsmilethatIrememberedonherlips.And
suddenlyIfeltafraidofher,asonemightfeelafraidofabeautifulpoisonoussnake.

'Ihopewehavenotderangedyou,madame,'saidPoirotpolitely,assheopenedthedoorforustopass
out.

'Notatall,monsieur.'

'By the way,' said Poirot, as though struck by an afterthought, 'Monsieur Stonor has not been in
Merlinvilletoday,hashe?'

Icouldnotatallfathomthepointofthisquestion,whichIwellknewtobemeaninglessasfarasPoirot
wasconcerned.

MadameDaubreuilrepliedquitecomposedly:

'NotthatIknowof.'

'HehasnothadaninterviewwithMadameRenauld?'

'HowshouldIknowthat,monsieur?'

'True,' said Poirot. 'I thought you might have seen him coming or going, that is all. Good-night,
madame.'

'Why-'Ibegan.

'Nowhys,Hastings.Therewillbetimeforthatlater.'

WerejoinedCinderellaandmadeourwayrapidlyinthedirectionoftheVillaGeneviève.Poirotlooked
overhisshoulderonceatthelightedwindowandtheprofileofMartheasshebentoverherwork.

'Heisbeingguardedatallevents,'hemuttered.

Arrived at the Villa Geneviève, Poirot took up his stand behind some bushes to the left of the drive,
where,whileenjoyingagoodviewourselves,wewerecompletelyhiddenfromsight.TheVillaitself
was in total darkness, everybody was without doubt in bed and asleep. We were almost immediately
underthewindowofMrsRenauld'sbedroom,whichwindow,Inoticed,wasopen.Itseemedtomethat
itwasuponthisspotthatPoirot'seyeswerefixed.

'Whatarewegoingtodo?'Iwhispered.

'Watch.'

'But-'

'Idonotexpectanythingtohappenforatleastanhour,probablytwohours,butthe-'

Hiswordswereinterruptedbyalong,thindrawncry:

'Help!'

A light flashed up in the first-floor room on the right-hand side of the front door. The cry came from
there.Andevenaswewatchedtherecameashadowontheblindasoftwopeoplestruggling.

'Milletonnerres!'criedPoirot.'Shemusthavechangedherroom.'

Dashing forward, he battered wildly on the front door. Then rushing to the tree in the flower-bed, he
swarmedupitwiththeagilityofacat.Ifollowedhim,aswithaboundhespranginthroughtheopen
window.Lookingovermyshoulder,IsawDulciereachingthebranchbehindme.

'Takecare,'Iexclaimed.

'Takecareofyourgrandmother!'retortedthegirl.'Thisischild'splaytome.'

Poirothadrushedthroughtheemptyroomandwaspoundingonthedoor.

'Lockedandboltedontheoutside,'hegrowled.'Anditwilltaketimetoburstitopen.'

Thecriesforhelpweregettingnoticeablyfainter.IsawdespairinPoirot'seyes.HeandItogetherput
ourshoulderstothedoor.

Cinderella'svoice,calmanddispassionate,camefromthewindow:

'You'llbetoolate.IguessI'mtheonlyonewhocandoanything.'

BeforeIcouldmoveahandtostopher,sheappearedtoleapfromthewindowintospace.Irushedand
looked out. To my horror, I saw her hanging by her hands from the roof, propelling herself along by
jerksinthedirectionofthelightedwindow.

'Goodheavens!She'llbekilled,'Icried.

'Youforget.She'saprofessionalacrobat,Hastings.ItwastheprovidenceofthegoodGodthatmadeher
insistoncomingwithustonight.Ionlypraythatshemaybeintime.Ah!'

Acryofabsoluteterrorfloatedoutontothenight,asthegirldisappearedthroughthewindow,andthen
inCinderella'scleartonescamethewords:

'No,youdon't!I'vegotyou-andmywristsarejustlikesteel.'

At the same moment the door of our prison was opened cautiously by Françoise. Poirot brushed her
asideunceremoniouslyandrusheddownthepassagetowheretheothermaidsweregroupedroundthe
fartherdoor.

'It'slockedontheinside,monsieur.'

Therewasthesoundofaheavyfallwithin.Afteramomentortwothekeyturnedandthedoorswung

slowlyopen.Cinderella,verypale,beckonedusin.

'Sheissafe?'demandedPoirot.

'Yes,Iwasjustintime.Shewasexhausted.'

Mm.Renauldwashalfsitting,halflyingonthebed.Shewasgaspingforbreath.

'Nearlystrangledme,'shemurmuredpainfully.

The girl picked up something from the floor and handed it to Poirot. It was a rolled-up ladder of silk
rope,veryfine,butquitestrong.

'Agetaway,'saidPoirot.'Bythewindow,whilewewerebatteringatthedoor.Whereis-theother?'

Thegirlstoodasidealittleandpointed.Onthegroundlayafigurewrappedinsomedarkmaterial,a
foldofwhichhidtheface.

'Dead?'

Shenodded.

'Ithinkso.Headmusthavestruckthemarblefender.'

'Butwhoisit?'Icried.

'ThemurdererofRenauld,Hastings.Andthewould-bemurdererofMadameRenauld.'

Puzzledanduncomprehending,Ikneltdown,andliftingthefoldofcloth,lookedintothedeadbeautiful
faceofMartheDaubreuil!

Chapter28

JOURNEY'SEND

I have confused memories of the further events of that night. Poirot seemed deaf to my repeated
questions.HewasengagedinoverwhelmingFrançoisewithreproachesfornothavingtoldhimofMrs
Renauld'schangeofsleepingquarters.

Icaughthimbytheshoulder,determinedtoattracthisattention,andmakemyselfheard.

'Butyoumusthaveknown,'Iexpostulated.'Youweretakenuptoseeherthisafternoon.'

Poirotdeignedtoattendtomeforabriefmoment.

'Shehadbeenwheeledonasofaintothemiddleroom-herboudoir,'heexplained.

'But, monsieur,' cried Françoise, 'Madame changed her room almost immediately after the crime: the
associationstheyweretoodistressing!'

'ThenwhywasInottold?'vociferatedPoirot,strikingthetable,andworkinghimselfintoafirst-class
passion.'Idemandofyou-why-was-I-not-told?Youareanoldwomancompletelyimbecile!And
LéonieandDenisearenobetter.Allofyouaretripleidiots!Yourstupidityhasnearlycausedthedeath
ofyourmistress.Butforthiscourageouschild-'

He broke off, and, darting across the room to where the girl was bending over ministering to Mrs
Renauld,hebracedherwithGallicfervour-slightlytomyannoyance.Iwasarousedfrommycondition
of mental fog by a sharp command from Poirot to fetch the doctor immediately on Mrs Renauld's
behalf.Afterthat,Imightsummonthepolice.

Andheaddedtocompletemydudgeon:

'It will hardly be worth your while to return here. I shall be too busy to attend to you, and of
MademoisellehereImakeagarde-malade.'

I retired with what dignity I could command. Having done my errands, I returned to the hotel. I
understood next to nothing of what had occurred. The events of the night seemed fantastic and
impossible. Nobody would answer my questions. Nobody had seemed to hear them. Angrily, I flung
myselfintobed,andsleptthesleepofthebewilderedandutterlyexhausted.

IawoketofindthesunpouringinthroughtheopenwindowsandPoirot,neatandsmiling,sittingbeside

thebed.

'Enfin,youwake!Butitisthatyouareafamoussleeper,Hastings!Doyouknowthatitisnearlyeleven
o'clock?'

Igroanedandputahandtomyhead.

'Imusthavebeendreaming,'Isaid.'Doyouknow,IactuallydreamtthatwefoundMartheDaubreuil's
bodyinMrsRenauld'sroom,andthatyoudeclaredhertohavemurderedMrRenauld?'

'Youwerenotdreaming.Allthatisquitetrue.'

'ButBellaDuveenkilledMrRenauld?'

'Ohno,Hastings,shedidnot!Shesaidshedid-yes-butthatwastosavethemanshelovedfromthe
guillotine.'

'What?'

'RememberJackRenauld'sstory.Theybotharrivedonthesceneonthesameinstantandeachtookthe
othertobetheperpetratorofthecrime.Thegirlstaresathiminhorror,andthenwithacryrushesaway.
Butwhenshehearsthatthecrimehasbeenbroughthometohim,shecannotbearitandcomesforward
toaccuseherselfandsavehimfromcertaindeath.'

Poirotleanedbackinhischair,andbroughtthetipsofhisfingerstogetherinfamiliarstyle.

'Thecasewasnotquitesatisfactorytome,'heobservedjudicially.'AllalongIwasstronglyunderthe
impression that we were dealing with a cold-blooded and premeditated crime committed by someone
whohadcontentedthemselves(verycleverly)withusingMonsieurRenauld'sownplansforthrowing
thepoliceoffthetrack.Thegreatcriminal(asyoumayremembermyremarkingtoyouonce)isalways
supremelysimple.'

Inodded.

'Now,tosupportthistheory,thecriminalmusthavebeenfullycognizantofMonsieurRenauld'splans.

ThatleadsustoMrsRenauld.Butfactsfailtosupportanytheoryofherguilt.Isthereanyoneelsewho
might have known of them? Yes. From Marthe Daubreuil's own lips we have the admission that she
overheardMrRenauld'squarrelwiththetramp.Ifshecouldoverhearthat,thereisnoreasonwhyshe
shouldnothaveheardeverythingelse,especiallyifMrandMadameRenauldwereimprudentenoughto
discuss their plans sitting on the bench. Remember how easily you overheard Marthe's conversation
withJackRenauldfromthatspot.'

'ButwhatpossiblemotivecouldMarthehaveformurderingMrRenauld?'Iargued.

'What motive! Money! Renauld was a millionaire several times over, and at his death (or so she and
Jack believed) half that vast fortune would pass to his son. Let us reconstruct the scene from the
standpointofMartheDaubreuil.

'MartheDaubreuiloverhearswhatpassesbetweenRenauldandhiswife.Sofarhehasbeenanicelittle
sourceofincometotheDaubreuilmotheranddaughter,butnowheproposestoescapefromtheirtoils.
Atfirst,possibly,herideaistopreventthatescape.Butabolderideatakesitsplace,andonethatfailsto
horrify the daughter of Jeanne Beroldy! At present Renauld stands inexorably in the way of her
marriagewithJack.Ifthelatterdefieshisfather,hewillbeapauper-whichisnotatalltothemindof
MademoiselleMarthe.Infact,IdoubtifshehasevercaredastrawforJackRenauld.Shecansimulate
emotionbutinrealitysheisofthesamecold,calculatingtypeashermother.Idoubt,too,whethershe
was really very sure of her hold over the boy's affections. She had dazzled and captivated him, but
separatedfromher,ashisfathercouldsoeasilymanagetoseparatehim,shemightlosehim.Butwith
Renaulddead,andJacktheheirtohalfhismillions,themarriagecantakeplaceatonce,andatastroke
shewillattainwealth-notthebeggarlythousandsthathavebeenextractedfromhimsofar.Andher
clever brain takes in the simplicity of the thing. It is all so easy. Renauld is planning all the
circumstancesofhisdeath-shehasonlytostepinattherightmomentandturnthefarceintoagrim
reality.AndherecomesinthesecondpointwhichledmeinfalliblytoMartheDaubreuil-thedagger:
JackRenauldhadthreesouvenirsmade.Onehegavetohismother,onetoBellaDuveen-wasitnot
highlyprobablethathehadgiventhethirdonetoMartheDaubreuil?

'So,thentosumup,therewerefourpointsofnoteagainstMartheDaubreuil:

'1-MartheDaubreuilcouldhaveoverheardRenauld'splans.

'2-MartheDaubreuilhadadirectinterestincausingRenauld'sdeath.

'3 - Marthe Daubreuil was the daughter of the notorious Madame Beroldy who in my opinion was
morallyandvirtuallythemurderessofherhusband,althoughitmayhavebeenGeorgesConneau'shand
whichstrucktheactualblow.

'4-MartheDaubreuilwastheonlyperson,besidesJackRenauld,likelytohavethethirddaggerinher
possession.'

Poirotpausedandclearedhisthroat.

'Ofcourse,whenIlearnedoftheexistenceoftheothergirl,BellaDuveen,Irealizedthatitwasquite
possiblethatshemighthavekilledRenauld.Thesolutiondidnotcommenditselftome,because,asI
pointedouttoyou,Hastings,anexpert,suchasIam,likestomeetafoemanworthyofhissteel.Still,
onemusttakecrimesasonefindsthem,notasonewouldlikethemtobe.Itdidnotseemverylikely
thatBellaDuveenwouldbewanderingaboutcarryingasouvenirpaper-knifeinherhand,butofcourse
she might have had some idea all the time of revenging herself on Jack Renauld. When she actually
cameforwardandconfessedtothemurder,itseemedthatallwasover.Andyet-Iwasnotsatisfied,
monami!Iwasnotsatisfied...

'Iwentoverthecaseagainminutely,andIcametothesameconclusionasbefore.IfitwasnotBella
Duveen,theonlyotherpersonwhocouldhavecommittedthecrimewasMartheDaubreuil.ButIhad
notonesingleproofagainsther!

'And then you showed me that letter from Mademoiselle Dulcie, and I saw a chance of settling the
matter once and for all. The original dagger was stolen by Dulcie Duveen and thrown into the sea -
since,asshethought,itbelongedtohersister.Butif,byanychance,itwasnothersister's,buttheone
given by Jack to Marthe Daubreuil - why then, Bella Duveen's dagger would be still intact! I said no
wordtoyou,Hastings(itwasnotimeforromance),butIsoughtoutMademoiselleDulcie,toldheras
much as I deemed needful, and set her to search among the effects of her sister. Imagine my elation,
whenshesoughtmeout(accordingtomyinstructions)asMissRobinsonwiththeprecioussouvenirin
herpossession!

'InthemeantimeIhadtakenstepstoforceMademoiselleMartheintotheopen.Bymyorders,Madame
Renauldrepulsedherson,anddeclaredherintentionofmakingawillonthemorrowwhichshouldcut
himofffromeverenjoyingevenaportionofhisfather'sfortune.Itwasadesperatestep,butanecessary
one, and Madame Renauld was fully prepared to take the risk - though unfortunately she also never
thoughtofmentioningherchangeofroom,IsupposeshetookitforgrantedthatIknew.Allhappened
asIthought.MartheDaubreuilmadealastboldbidfortheRenauldmillions-andfailed!'

'What absolutely bewilders me,' I said, 'is how she ever got into the house without our seeing her. It
seems an absolute miracle. We left her behind at the Villa Marguerite, we go straight to the Villa
Geneviève-andyetsheistherebeforeus!'

'Ah, but we did not leave her behind. She was out of the Villa Marguerite by the back way while we

weretalkingtohermotherinthehall.Thatiswhere,astheAmericanssay,she"putitover"onHercule
Poirot!'

'Buttheshadowontheblind?Wesawitfromtheroad.'

'Ehbien,whenwelookedup,MadameDaubreuilhadjusthadtimetorunupstairsandtakeherplace.'

'MadameDaubreuil?'

'Yes.Oneisold,andoneisyoung,onedark,andonefair,but,forthepurposeofasilhouetteonablind,
their profiles are singularly alike. Even I did not suspect - triple imbecile that I was! I thought I had
plentyoftimebeforeme-thatshewouldnottrytogainadmissiontotheVillauntilmuchlater.Shehad
brains,thatbeautifulMademoiselle.'

'AndherobjectwastomurderMrsRenauld?'

'Yes.Thewholefortunewouldthenpasstoherson.Butitwouldhavebeensuicide,monami!Onthe
floor by Marthe Daubreuil's body, I found a pad and a little bottle of chloroform and a hypodermic
syringe containing a fatal dose of morphine. You understand? The chloroform first - then when the
victim is unconscious the prick of the needle. By the morning the smell of the chloroform has quite
disappearedandthesyringelieswhereithasfallenfromMadameRenauld'shand.Whatwouldhesay,
theexcellentMonsieurHautet?"Poorwoman!WhatdidItellyou?Theshockofjoy,itwastoomuch
ontopoftherest!DidInotsaythatIshouldnotbesurprisedifherbrainbecameunhinged.Altogether
amosttragiccase,theRenauldCase!"

'However, Hastings, things did not go quite as Mademoiselle Marthe had planned. To begin with,
MadameRenauldwasawakeandwaitingforher.Thereisastruggle.ButMadameRenauldisterribly
weakstill.ThereisalastchanceforMartheDaubreuil.Theideaofsuicideisatanend,butifshecan
silenceMadameRenauldwithherstronghands,makeagetawaywithherlittlesilkladderwhileweare
still battering on the inside of the farther door, and be back at the Villa Marguerite before we return
there,itwillbehardtoproveanythingagainsther.Butshewascheck-mated,notbyHerculePoirot,but
bylapetiteacrobatewithherwristsofsteel.'

Imusedoverthewholestory.

'WhendidyoufirstbegintosuspectMartheDaubreuil,Poirot?Whenshetoldusshehadoverheardthe
quarrelinthegarden?'

Poirotsmiled.

'Myfriend,doyourememberwhenwedroveintoMerlinvillethatfirstday?Andthebeautifulgirlwe
sawstandingatthegate?YouaskedmeifIhadnotnoticedayounggoddess,andIrepliedtoyouthatI
had seen only a girl with anxious eyes. That is how I have thought of Marthe Daubreuil from the
beginning.Thegirlwiththeanxiouseyes!Whywassheanxious?NotonJackRenauld'sbehalf,forshe
didnotknowthenthathehadbeeninMerlinvillethepreviousevening.'

'Bytheway,'Iexclaimed,'howisJackRenauld?'

'Muchbetter.HeisstillattheVillaMarguerite.ButMadameDaubreuilhasdisappeared.Thepoliceare
lookingforher.'

'Wassheinwithherdaughter,doyouthink?'

'Weshallneverknow.Madameisaladywhocankeephersecrets.AndIdoubtverymuchifthepolice
willeverfindher.'

'HasJackRenauldbeentold?'

'Notyet.'

'Itwillbeaterribleshocktohim.'

'Naturally.Andyet,doyouknow,Hastings,Idoubtifhisheartwaseverseriouslyengaged?Sofarwe
havelookeduponBellaDuveenasasiren,andMartheDaubreuilasthegirlhereallyloved.ButIthink
thatifwereversedthetermsweshouldcomenearertothetruth.MartheDaubreuilwasverybeautiful.
ShesetherselftofascinateJack,andshesucceeded,butrememberhiscuriousreluctancetobreakwith
theothergirl.Andseehowhewaswillingtogototheguillotineratherthanimplicateher.Ihavealittle
ideathatwhenhelearnsthetruth,hewillbehorrified-revolted,andhisfalselovewillwitheraway.'

'WhataboutGiraud?'

'Hehasacriseofthenerves,thatone!HehasbeenobligedtoreturntoParis.'

Webothsmiled.

Poirotprovedafairlytrueprophet.WhenatlengththedoctorpronouncedJackRenauldstrongenough
tohearthetruth,itwasPoirotwhobrokeittohim.Theshockwasindeedterrific.YetJackralliedbetter
than I could have supposed possible. His mother's devotion helped him to live through those difficult
days.Themotherandsonwereinseparablenow.

Therewasafurtherrevelationtocome.PoirothadacquaintedMrsRenauldwiththefactthatheknew
hersecret,andhadrepresentedtoherthatJackshouldnotbeleftinignoranceofhisfather'spast.

'Tohidethetruth,neverdoesitavail,madame!Bebraveandtellhimeverything.'

WithaheavyheartMrsRenauldconsented,andhersonlearnedthatthefatherhehadlovedhadbeenin
actualfactafugitivefromjustice.AhaltingquestionwaspromptlyansweredbyPoirot.

'Reassureyourself,MonsieurJack.Theworldknowsnothing.AsfarasIcansee,thereisnoobligation
formetotakethepoliceintomyconfidence.ThroughoutthecaseIhaveacted,notforthem,butfor
yourfather.Justiceovertookhimatlast,butnooneneedeverknowthatheandGeorgesConneauwere
oneandthesame.'

There were, of course, various points in the case that remained puzzling to the police, but Poirot
explainedthingsinsoplausibleafashionthatallqueryaboutthemwasgraduallystilled.

Shortly after we got back to London, I noticed a magnificent model of a foxhound adorning Poirot's
mantelpiece.

Inanswertomyinquiringglance,Poirotnodded.

'Maisoui!Igotmyfivehundredfrancs!Ishenotasplendidfellow?IcallhimGiraud!'

AfewdayslaterJackRenauldcametoseeuswitharesoluteexpressiononhisface.

'Monsieur Poirot, I've come to say goodbye. I'm sailing for South America almost immediately. My
fatherhadlargeinterestsoverthecontinent,andImeantostartanewlifeoutthere.'

'Yougoalone,MonsieurJack?'

'Mymothercomeswithme-andIshallkeepStonoronasmysecretary.Helikesout-of-the-wayparts
oftheworld.'

'Nooneelsegoeswithyou?'

Jackflushed.

'Youmean?'

'Agirlwholovesyouverydearly-whohasbeenwillingtolaydownherlifeforyou.'

'HowcouldIaskher?'mutteredtheboy.'Afterallthathashappened,couldIgotoherand-Oh,what
sortofalamestorycouldItell?'

'Lesfemmes-theyhaveawonderfulgeniusformanufacturingcrutchesforstorieslikethat.'

'Yes,but-I'vebeensuchadamnedfool.'

'Sohaveallofus,onetimeandanother,'observedPoirotphilosophically.

ButJack'sfacehadhardened.

'There'ssomethingelse.I'mmyfather'sson.Wouldanyonemarryme,knowingthat?'

'Youareyourfather'sson,yousay.HastingsherewilltellyouthatIbelieveinheredity-'

'Well,then-'

'Wait. I know a woman, a woman of courage and endurance, capable of great love, of supreme self-
sacrifice-'

Theboylookedup.Hiseyessoftened.

'Mymother!'

'Yes. You are your mother's son as well as your father's. Then go to Mademoiselle Bella. Tell her
everything.Keepnothingback-andseewhatshewillsay!'

Jacklookedirresolute.

'Gotoherasaboynolonger,butaman-amanbowedbythefateofthePast,andthefateofToday,but
lookingforwardtoanewandwonderfullife.Askhertoshareitwithyou.Youmaynotrealizeit,but
yourloveforeachotherhasbeentestedinthefireandnotfoundwanting.Youhavebothbeenwilling
tolaydownyourlivesforeachother.'

AndwhatofCaptainArthurHastings,humblechroniclerofthesepages?

ThereissometalkofhisjoiningtheRenauldsonaranchacrosstheseas,butfortheendofthisstoryI
prefertogobacktoamorninginthegardenoftheVillaGeneviève.

'Ican'tcallyouBella,'Isaid,'sinceitisn'tyourname.AndDulcieseemssounfamiliar.Soit'sgottobe
Cinderella.CinderellamarriedthePrince,youremember.I'mnotaPrince,but-'

Sheinterruptedme.

'Cinderellawarnedhim,I'msure.Yousee,shecouldn'tpromisetoturnintoaprincess.Shewasonlya
littlescullionafterall-'

'It'sthePrince'sturntointerrupt,'Iinterpolated.'Doyouknowwhathesaid?'

'No?'

'"Hell!"saidthePrince-andkissedher.'

AndIsuitedtheactiontotheword.